I Can Still Hear You
by hannahmc15
Summary: Arnold had always had a strange ability- the ability to hear Helga, even if she wasn't around. Years later, he can still hear her, but now it haunts him. If she is dead, how can he still hear her?
1. Chapter 1

" _Arnold."_

The sound of his name ripped him from his sleep, gasping. Cold sweat beaded on his temples, across his forehead, and he shivered. He lay in bed, trying desperately to catch his breath. Eyes wide, he stared at the ceiling, and though he was a grown man, he was afraid to look anywhere else. It was so real, and it was so close.

When he was younger, he had heard the voice many times. He would ask if anyone else had heard, and they never had. It was only him, and he couldn't figure out why. Why him? Why could he hear her better than anyone? It was always when she was in trouble, or angry with him, both happened so frequently back then. Years went by and he thought for sure it was over, that he would never hear that haunting voice ever again.

He was wrong. Only now it was worse. Back in his youth, it was never as terrifying. Now, she screamed. She screamed in fear, in pain, and every time it pulled him from his sleep. This time, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, he knew this time was different.

The longer he lay, the more terrified he became. _You need to look,_ he said to himself, shutting his eyes tight, willing his self to sit up. _Just prove it to yourself, prove to yourself it isn't real._ Memories surfaced of when he tried to confide his new nightmarish existence with his best friend, Gerald.

 _"Man, you have to get a grip," Gerald said, giving him a questioning look. They were at the diner, sitting in the far corner at eleven o'clock at night. Arnold had his head in his hands, bags under his eyes, unable to sleep for fear of hearing the screams._

 _"You don't understand, Gerald," Arnold said, his voice filled with desperation. He needed someone to help him, and if Gerald couldn't, then who could? "This is my life. This has been happening for years and years. It happened when we were kids, don't you remember?"_

 _"I think I would remember you telling me about screaming voices in your head, man," Gerald said, taking a sip of his coffee._

 _"Remember on Halloween that one year? When the kids went as aliens?" Arnold said, trying to jog his memory. "I heard her, remember? I heard her."_

 _"Arnold, maybe…" Gerald started, but then looked out the window. He was searching for the right way to say what Arnold had already heard from his grandparents. He was looking for the right words to tell him he was crazy. "Maybe you need to talk to someone…like a professional?"_

 _Maybe I do need a professional,_ He thought as he lay there, still mustering the courage to sit up. _Maybe it's time to get someone else's opinion._

He heard rustling at the end of his bed. His heart stopped. His throat felt like a vice. If he didn't look now, he would be frozen here for the rest of the night, staring at the ceiling, drenched in sweat. He put his hands on the bed and slowly hoisted himself up into a sitting position, eyes still closed. He was shaking, almost in tears as the fear consumed him. He finally willed himself to open his eyes.

She was there. She was staring at him. Right in the eyes. She sat at the foot of his bed, leaning against the wall. She was skinny, too skinny. Her flesh was pale and covered with bruises. He couldn't stop looking at her face. Her eyes were sunken; a mix of dark circles of sleeplessness and bruises encased them. Her lips were purple and split. Her cheek bones stuck out of her face and she looked like a skeleton.

Arnold sat there and stared, tears streaming down his face, just waiting for something to happen. He shook, his breath was ragged. As far as he knew, Helga was dead. So why was she here, staring at him? As she stared, unblinking, she opened her mouth and whispered.

 _"I miss you, Arnold._ "


	2. Chapter 2

The sun crept into Arnold's sparsely decorated room, illuminating the layer of dust on the wooden floor boards. It had been a while since he cleaned, and this unusually bright winter morning was throwing that in his face. He was still upright in his bed, hugging his knees, leaning against the wall, staring. He had watched her all night long. She never moved, barely spoke, but when she did, she only said his name. The entire night, she stared right back at him.

Arnold dreaded the sunshine. He was terrified- who wouldn't be- at the dead woman in his room. At the same time, however, he had heard her before but never had she shown up. He dreamed of her, but he never saw her. All night, part of him wanted her disappear so he could go back to sleep, but there was a little pull at the back of his head, a voice that admitted _I want this._

As he sat there, watching her in the morning light, she began to vanish. He could see through her as her form became more and more transparent. Soon the sun was up, and she was completely gone.

Arnold pushed himself off the wall and swung his feet over the side of the bed, planting them firmly on the cold ground. He rubbed his face, his eyes, and pushed his hands through his messy hair. He went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror and couldn't help but laugh- he looked like a drunk hot mess who hadn't slept all night. _Well, at least one of those descriptions is accurate tonight._

He sluggishly got into the shower, standing in the burning hot water and letting it role over him. He felt his eyes drooping and slapped himself lightly in the face, trying to stay awake. He quickly cleaned himself and got out, wiping the mirror of steam and looking at himself again. He still looked exhausted. He hadn't shaved in a while- why bother, right? His face was still wide, but not so much a football shape anymore. His hair was longer that it had been in a while and required brushing. When he started in the police academy, he had cut it short to show his dedication. Now? Now he didn't give a shit.

He shuffled into the kitchen and grabbed some cereal and a bowl. He sat down heavily at the small kitchen table and poured himself a bowl when his roommate came bustling around the corner. Arnold watched him as he hurried around, making himself a breakfast of eggs and toast and sausage. He took a big gulp of coffee, slightly annoyed at the amount of energy Sid had in the morning. He felt guilty, judging him like this; Sid was the only person willing to live with him at this point.

"Hey Arnold, have a good night?" Sid asked, setting his plate down across from his old friend. Arnold shrugged and didn't say anything, keeping his head down and eyes focused on his food. Sid sighed and continued talking anyways. "Anything exciting happening at work?"

Arnold cast his eyes upward at Sid, keeping his face down, and gave him a look that clearly meant he didn't feel like talking right now. Sid shook his head and stood, sliding his plate off the table and headed towards his room, shaking his head as he went. "Whatever man."

Arnold heard the bedroom door shut and the television turn on in Sid's room. He knew he shouldn't be mean to him. After all, Sid was the only person who would live with him. Everyone else was sick of his negative attitude. He couldn't help it- there was nothing to be happy about. He sighed and heaved himself from the table. When he first knocked on Sid's door, there was no answer, so he did it again.

Sid yanked the door open and glared at Arnold. "What?"

"Sorry," Arnold said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Sid waited, eyebrows raised, for more of an explanation. "I had a rough night."

"Yeah no shit," Sid said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed. "Every night for you is rough. You are the definition of rough."

Arnold smirked and the small smile felt weird, as if those muscles didn't work anymore. "I don't really know what else to tell you, man."

"You know what I'm going to say," Sid said before closing his door in Arnold's face. Arnold sighed and went back to the table, sitting down heavily. Of course he knew what Sid would say. It was the same shit everyone always said: get help.

But who would believe him? Who would listen to him talk about Helga and not think he's nuts? He didn't want medication, he didn't want physiotherapy, he wanted someone to tell him that maybe he's right. Maybe what he's seeing isn't the ghost of a girl, but something else. Maybe Helga is alive.

As the words came to his mind, he felt an anger pulse through his veins. " _She's not alive, you idiot,"_ that angry voice in his head told him. _"You went to her funeral. You were there. She's gone."_

He stood up, shoving his chair back so hard in anger that it toppled. He righted it, slamming it on the floor before setting his bowl in the sink. He snatched his leather coat from the hook and left the apartment, walking to work.

The cold winter air hit smacked him the moment he opened the lobby door. He zipped up his coat, shoved some headphones in his ears, and walked to work. The memory of Helga's funeral filled his mind…

 _"I don't know if I can actually do this, man," Arnold said, sitting in the back seat of Gerald's car. He wanted to tell him more, but a lump caught his voice in his throat, muting him. There was so much he didn't know._

 _"It's going to be okay," Gerald said, sighing. Phoebe sat next to her husband, tears spilling down her cheeks that she daintily blotted away. Gerald took her hand and she squeezed back. Arnold felt a pang of jealousy. He wished he had someone to comfort him…or someone he could take care of. Instead he was alone and he was going to the funeral of his ex-coworker and longtime friend._

 _They had gone to calling hours before the funeral, and Arnold was shocked to see that Helga had been cremated. It hurt his heart that he couldn't look at her one last time. He stood next to the urn- a green vase with delicate floral designs etched in gold encircling the smooth porcelain. Her mother and father welcomed guests, their eyes red and puffy. Despite her less-than-perfect upbringing, Helga had turned into an amazing person, and no parent could ignore that. They were immensely proud of her, and she was taken too soon._

 _Arnold sat numb in the church pew, feeling wrong. He knew she wouldn't have wanted to go out like this, with people sitting here in a freaking church, morning her loss, singing tearful hymns. She wasn't even religious, damn it. He listened to the priest talk about her adult life._

 _"Helga graduated from P.S. 118 with one of the highest GPA's, shadowed only by her best friend Phoebe," He gestured to her best friend, sitting in the front row. "She had said, more than once, that she wouldn't have done so well without the love and support of Phoebe and she would have never wanted to be valedictorian if it meant taking that away from her."_

 _"She moved on to study journalism at HCC, again, graduating with full honors. She started a career at the local Hillwood gazette, only to be inspired to join the police force after writing a number of articles on their heroism. She wanted to be part of the action, help those in need rather than writing about it."_

 _"She attended the Hillwood police academy with longtime friends Arnold Shortman and Gerald Johansson, working side-by-side with them to become an unstoppable team, forming the alternative after school program for troubled teens, bringing the number of juvenile arrests lower than it ever had been."_

 _Arnold could feel that lump in his throat again, the one that stole his voice. Remembering the time they spent together on the force brought back so many good memories, yet each one was laced with pain. His eyes swelled and he fought back tears as he listened to her downfall._

 _"After all these great accomplishments, Helga decided she wanted to take her skills elsewhere and began writing for EARTH, and environmental magazine notorious for its activist writers who not only reported on protest rallies and conservation efforts, but also started them. It was working for this magazine that Helga found her life's passion. She wanted to help people, and with this line of work, she knew she could help the future generations of not only Hillwood, but the United States and hopefully the world. She was becoming a real life super hero. The accident that no one could have predicted would cut her fruitful career short. No one would have expected such a tragedy to take this young woman down."_

 _"Her work took her to Brazil, where she was reporting on the abysmal living conditions of the residence of a small town near the Rio Paraguay, plagued with pollution. She soon found herself in the middle of a heated protest and the victim of a senseless hit-and-run. Her fellow protesters instantly called for help, but her injuries were too severe and she perished in the hospital, but not before her parents were able to fly to her and tell her they loved her. In a world filled with violence and sadness, sometimes God finds a way to comfort his children, as they deserve that peace."_

 _Arnold rolled his eyes. As if "God" really had anything to do with this. Sure, it was nice her parents got to say goodbye, but if God really did exist, he wouldn't have let her die. He would have saved her. He would have never let her go down to fucking Brazil in the first place. He would have made her stay where she was safe! He wouldn't let her go! He would have let Arnold say he was sorry! He would have let him say goodbye as well! He wouldn't have done this!_

 _Arnold felt hands wrapping around his upper arm and yanking him, hard, down the church isle. He hadn't realized that he was standing, screaming his thoughts for all the church to hear. He didn't want to leave the church; he wanted to get one last goodbye. He struggled against the men who pulled him backwards out of the church. "I'm fine. Let me go back. I'm fine! Let go of me!"_

 _The cathedral doors burst open and sunlight blinded Arnold. He was spun around and led down the stairs, off to the side, and forced to sit down next to the hand railing. Gerald crouched down in front of him. Arnold glared at him angrily. "I want to go back in."_

 _"Like hell you're going back in there," Gerald said in a stern voice. "Just what the fuck do you think you are doing, man?"_

 _Arnold didn't answer but just looked away, staring at the steps in front of him. "Look, I know you're hurting. Trust me, I know, I am too, but you can't do shit like that Arnold! You're scaring people! Did you even realize how upset you were making her family? They already lost a daughter, they don't need you yelling and screaming during her funeral, got that?"_

 _He sighed and sat down next to Arnold, rubbing his face with his hands. "Look, I don't know what went on between you two. Obviously you were closer to her than I was. We were just co-workers, you guys actually hung out. I don't know what happened to make her quit the force, I don't know what happened to make her quit hanging out with you, but clearly it affected you. If you need to talk to someone, you can talk to me, but I can't fix whatever is going on with you, okay? You need someone to help you, and I know I've said it before, but I really think it's time. We're losing you too, Arnold, and none of us want that. We already lost a good one, man, don't make us come back her for another funeral."_

 _"I want to go back in," Arnold said again, quietly. Gerald shook his head. "I want to say goodbye."_

 _"Say goodbye at her grave," Gerald said in obvious disappointment, heading back up the stairs to the church, leaving Arnold there. "Get some fucking help, man."_


	3. Chapter 3

Entering the office, Arnold walked with his head down, brushing up against the wall as he clung to the far sides of the hallway. He'd do anything to keep people from noticing him or worse, talking to him. He snaked his way through the building towards security. He threw his coat on the table and realized he forgot his laptop bag at home. Didn't matter that much, he wasn't doing anything useful at work anyway and he barely used his laptop at all. Sometimes he thought it was just a grace given to him to save a little face after he was demoted. It didn't matter.

After being pat down and his things were returned to him, Arnold made his way to his desk. Technically, he was still a police officer. Except now his job was to file away arrest decades old warrants and sort through mountains of backed up paperwork. It fucking sucked.

He threw in his headphones and got to work on the new stack of files placed on his desk that morning. " _At least if they were new we'd have them already digitized",_ Arnold thought as he sorted the papers, making neat stacks of what needed to be scanned into the system and what he thought could be tossed. He didn't get to make any decisions around here anymore; even throwing away a piece of paper had to be run by someone else. He wasn't even allowed to help with the Alternative after school program, or AASP. He had fallen so far down the totem pole his face was in the mud. Absent-mindedly trudging through his day, he was not paying attention, and not noticing when one of his superiors came over and placed his hands on the desk in front of him. He was snapped into attention when one of his earbuds was yanked from his head.

"So, Shortman," The sneering voice said, and Arnold looked up into the face of Wolfgang. "How are we doing today?"

He hated him when they were younger and he hated him now, but now Wolfgang was his boss and there was nothing he could do about it. He no longer gave Arnold a hard time, not after what happened, but clearly Wolfgang didn't trust him. Arnold could hear the patronizing pity in his voice every time he came over. "You doing alright today? Getting stuff done?"

"Yep," Arnold said, looking down at his work again.

"You know," Wolfgang continued, now sitting on Arnold's desk, a sickeningly fake look of concern on his face. "A lot of the guys have expressed…well…some worries lately about you."

"Oh really," Arnold replied without a trace of questioning in his voice. No shit people were worried.

"They say you aren't acting the same… you don't go to lunch with the boys anymore. They miss the old Arnold. Now I understand it's been a pretty rough year for you, but I'm wondering what we can do to fix that."

Arnold didn't reply. He used to love going to the Good Food diner; it was right across the street from the office and a notorious hangout for all the cops. When he was working the streets with Gerald, his partner, he and the other guys would stop in every single day. One waitress who seemed to be there twenty four hours a day even knew their standing orders. When Helga was still working with them, she went with them every time. When she left, Arnold went less often…when she left for Brazil, he barely went at all…when she died, he never went back. If he was being honest, he was afraid. Who knows what memories would surface in there? Who knows if she would show up there?

"What do you think we can do to fix this, Arnold?" Wolfgang's voice snapped Arnold back to reality. He shrugged and stood, grabbing a stack of papers and heading for the copier. Wolfgang stood in his way. "We need to fix this, Arnold."

"What do you want me to say?" Arnold asked, getting frustrated.

"Your quality of work has seriously degraded, Shortman," Wolfgang said, arms crossed. "You used to be a good cop, now you're a fucking paper pusher. My wife could do this shit in her sleep and she hasn't worked a day in her life. She takes care of the kids all day and yet she could still do this better than you."

"Must suck to be her," Arnold mumbled, side-stepping his boss. Wolfgang put a hand on his chest and stopped him.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," he whispered, glaring at Arnold. "The captain and I came up with an idea for you. We decided that in order to keep your job, you are to go to mandatory counseling.

"Fuck that," Arnold said angrily, pushing Wolfgang's hand off his chest and throwing the paper onto his desk, walking towards the door. "I'll quit before you send me to any fucking 'mandatory' counseling. Like you said, anyone can do this shit."

"If you do it, we'll consider giving you back your old job," Wolfgang called after him. Arnold stopped. "We'll put you back on patrol. Back out there doing some good. Will give you AASP."

"If you're lying to me, I swear to God," Arnold said, pointing threateningly towards his boss.

"You'd be working with Gerald…well, under Gerald at first," Wolfgang said. "After a period of time, if you take this seriously and it looks like you're getting better… we'll consider making you co-heads of the program again. You'll be able to make decisions and everything."

Arnold hesitated. He hated the idea of therapy. He didn't want to lay on that stupid couch. He weighted the options- get help and get his life back, or continue living this way. _"What if they drug you?"_ The thought flashed through his mind without his permission. It wrenched his heart; if they drugged him, would he still hear Helga? Would he ever see her again? Did he want to?

Did he want a normal life or did he want a ghost to drive him insane?

He walked back to Wolfgang, slowly. He stared at the man for a long time, trying to figure out if this offer was worth it. Anything was better than this though, right? The idea of happiness in his life again made him ache.

He held out his hand, and Wolfgang took it. "Deal."


	4. Chapter 4

_"I can't believe you went to therapy back then," Arnold said with a laugh. Helga shoved him and he almost fell out of his seat. "What? Come on it's just surprising that's all!"_

 _"Yeah whatever," Helga said, crossing her arms and slouching in the auditorium chair. Arnold straightened his graduation cap, pushing the tassel out of his face. The ceremony rehearsal was extremely long and extremely boring. Right now, sitting in the hot auditorium in the middle of May, everyone was getting a little antsy as principle Simmons tried to alphabetize the entire graduating class._

 _"Oh come on, don't be mad," Arnold said, slouching down just like her. She smirked at him. "Honestly, I really don't care, it was probably good for you in the long run."_

 _"Watch it football head," She said, pointing at him. "You're on thin ice already."_

 _"I mean, you were kind of an ass back then," He laughed as he said it and didn't regret a thing, even when she punched him in the shoulder._

 _"Well you're an ass right now!" She said, whaling on his arm. "Take it back!"_

 _"I take it back!" Arnold said though his laughter. "You're still an ass."_

 _"You suck," she said staring at the ceiling. She took off her hat and wiped her forehead with her arm. She pushed her long blonde hair away from her face and held it up off her neck, looking for a little relief from the steamy room. "It's so fucking hot in here; I can't take much more of this."_

 _"Why did we have to wear these stupid things for a rehearsal anyway?" Arnold said, unzipping the front of his robe and fanning it. He was hot before he put it on in shorts and a t-shirt, now the heat was unbearable. They sat there in silence for a moment, watching Simmons struggle. He looked over at her and saw her dozing off. He nudged her awake. If he was going to be hot and bored, she had to be too. "What are your plans for after school?"_

 _"Today?" She asked. "Nothing really, why?"_

 _"No not today, you weirdo," Arnold said. He didn't notice the look of disappointment flash across her face. "I mean… like… with your life."_

 _"You know what I want to do, Arnold," She said in frustration. "I want to be a writer. Duh."_

 _"That's all you've ever said," Arnold replied. "I mean, you really really haven't changed your mind after all these years?"_

 _"Nope," She said with confidence. "I really really haven't."_

 _"Well," Arnold said, scratching the back of his head where the graduation cap met his skin. "Maybe I'll see you around HCC then."_

 _"I didn't know you were going to Hillwood Community College," Helga said in surprise. "Why didn't you tell me?"_

 _"Wasn't it in the school newspaper? You know, the one you help right?" He said with a smirk._

 _"Oh please, like I really read that shit," Helga said, picking her nails. "That thing is all shit, except for my pieces that is."_

 _"Why didn't you become president of it then? Or editor or something… this damn hat sucks." Arnold flung his square cap to the floor. Out of his pocket, he pulled an old worn blue hat and placed it on his head. It felt like home._

 _"You look so stupid with that thing on," Helga said, ignoring his question. "You realize it's like, eight million sizes too small right? It's for a fucking toddler."_

 _"You're for a toddler," Arnold replied. "And you didn't answer me."_

 _"Why would I want to be president? Or editor for that matter?" Helga asked defiantly. "That means less time to write and more time dealing with these shit heads we call classmates."_

 _"Fair enough," Arnold said with a laugh. "Anyway, I hope to see you in college. We never really hung out much in high school, did we?"_

 _"Nah," Helga replied. "I guess not."_

 _"Weird… We did all the time when we were little," Arnold mused, remember baseball in the park and group trick or treating._

 _"Eh, people change I guess," Helga said._

 _Later that night, Arnold sat in his room, watching the clouds obscure the night sky as they floated lazily above his skylights. He was dozing, drifting unwillingly off to sleep with an AP calc text book on his stomach as he prepared for his last final of the year…_

 _"Arnold."_

 _The voice yanked him from his sleep and he sat bolt upright. Was that really who he thought it was? The last time he heard her voice like that, they were in the fourth grade, and he was positive he imagined it. Why would he hear Helga now?_

 _"Oh, Arnold."_

 _There was no denying it that time, he heard her…_

 _Blaming it on exhaustion, Arnold closed his text book and turned off his light. In a matter of minutes he was asleep, and he forgot all about Helga calling his name._

 _"Hey, you want to know something weird?" Arnold said to Helga, a week later, as they prepared to cross the stage and graduate from P.S. 118. She looked back at him. "I think I had a dream about you a few days ago, before the calc final."_

 _"Gross, don't dream about me," she said, turning to face forward. He didn't see it, but she smiled to herself._

 _"No I'm dead serious," He said with a laugh as they lined up in the hallway. They moved forward slowly as their classmates began receiving their diplomas on stage. "It's weird though, it was like I could hear you calling me. You were saying my name, but I couldn't see you… it used to happen when we were younger too, did I ever tell you that?"_

 _"No," Helga replied without turning around. Why was he even telling her this now? It sounded creepy when he said it out loud… "Tell me more."_

 _"Yeah, like…like when we almost missed your stupid play? Or Halloween when you were aliens?"_

 _Helga didn't say anything, so Arnold assumed she thought he was crazy. He couldn't know that her heart had practically stopped, because she remembered that… she remembered screaming his name in frustration and anger… how in the world could he have heard her?_

 _"Never mind," Arnold said, laughing awkwardly. "It was just a weird, stupid dream."_

 _"Yeah," she said, laughing awkwardly as well. "Just a dream."_

"It wasn't a dream, was it?" Arnold asked Helga. She was laying on his floor, flat on her back, her arms out to the side with her sprawling hands pressed to the floor. She had blood running from her nose. Her eyes were black and blue. "You said my name, didn't you?"

" _Arnold,"_ she said, tears running from her eyes.

Arnold slid from his bed onto the floor. He lay on his stomach, staring at her. He didn't dare get any closer, just in case… "Did you say my name? Are you saying it now?"

 _"I miss you, Arnold,"_ She said, like she always said.

"Give me more, Helga," Arnold said, tears now forming in his own eyes. She was clearly in pain, her skin sallow, still pulled tightly on her face and body. She was so tiny.

 _"Arnold,"_ She said again. Arnold balled his hands into fists, putting his face down onto them, pressing his eyes against his hands as tears fell.

"Say something else, damn it!" He yelled, pounding a fist into the floor. "Say something, anything! Let me know you're alive! Or not! I don't care, just tell me! I need to know!"

 _"Arnold?_ " She said, her voice questioning. Arnold looked up, shocked, and army crawled closer to the ghost on the floor. _"Arnold, didn't you know?"_

"Know what?" He asked, breathless.

 _"Didn't you know I loved you?"_

I really like listening to music, it helps me write. I started this story after listening to a particular song.

"Is there a ghost?"- Band of Horses. Look it up if you don't know it, it's good.


	5. Chapter 5

"She loved me?"

Arnold was laying on the floor, on his back, his hands flat on the floor, mirroring Helga. If she were really there, the crown of her head would be inches away from his. But she wasn't there. She was an illusion, a ghost. He was still too afraid to touch her, just in case something happened, but being this close almost felt real. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel a warm presence. His eyes didn't stay closed for long; he needed to stay awake or else she might vanish. He didn't want to test this.

Once again, the sun began creeping into his room. Arnold let out a growl of frustration. For the first time in a long time she had said more than his name. For the first time in a long time he felt like they were getting somewhere! Not they…he… he was getting somewhere. He was along, there was no "they".

Arnold rolled over on his stomach and pushed himself up. Today was the first day of therapy and he wasn't thrilled. What do you even wear to therapy? He pulled clothes out of his closet, everything from tattered jeans and an old hoodie to business casual. He settled on something in the middle and took off.

It was actually kind of nice, to be honest, missing a day of work to go do something else. He didn't have to worry about getting into work on time, he was allowed the morning off and if the session went poorly he was allowed the afternoon too. " _Might take advantage of that,"_ he thought with a smirk.

It was another sunny winter day and the shining snow blinded him. Arnold pulled dark sunglasses out of his pocket to shield his eyes as he walked the blocks to the medical building. He kept checking the crumpled strip of paper in his pocket to make sure he was actually heading in the right direction. He turned the corner onto 2nd street and froze in his tracks.

"Oh, fuck me," he said in exasperation, slapping his palm to his forehead and casting his gaze to the slushy sidewalk. It was the same building he had bumped into Helga coming out of when she went to therapy. It was the same place she went. He shouldn't have been that surprised… after all, how many shrinks could there be in Hillwood? Grumbling, he clenched his fists and forced his feet up the stone steps, keeping the AASP program in his mind as motivation.

The building was warmer than he expected. Weren't doctors' offices supposed to be freezing cold? He walked up to the reception desk in the main lobby where a smiling girl was waiting for him. She greeted him with way too much enthusiasm. "Hello there sir! How may I help you today?"

"Um," Arnold said, not use to people being so cheery with him. Most strangers kept their distance. As a matter of fact, most friends kept their distance too. "I'm looking for this office."

Arnold handed her the piece of paper, which she examined happily without losing the smile. "Ah, that's up on the seventh floor, the elevators are right over there!"

"Yeah, thanks," Arnold said, sliding the paper back into his pocket. He crossed the hallway towards the elevators.

"You enjoy your day sir!" The girl called from her desk as the doors slid open. She caught him off guard and he jumped a mile before turning around. She still sat there with the same enormous grin spread across her face. Arnold awkwardly smiled at her and gave a little wave before stepping into the elevator and pressing the 'close doors button' rapidly. He couldn't suppress a little laugh as he thought about the interaction. _What a fucking weirdo._

The elevator crawled to the seventh floor, all the while softly playing some smooth jazz. Arnold scoffed- whoever created elevator jazz was a moron. Arnold thought of all the awesome music they could play, shaking his head. The doors couldn't have opened soon enough; Arnold practically forced the cool metal doors apart to get away from the shitty music. He stumbled into the hallway and saw lines of armchairs in a well-lit waiting room. It was empty except for one fussy stay-at-home mom, whispering on the phone to her husband about her basket case child who wasn't present. Arnold went to the reception desk and was handed a clipboard which he took to the far corner to fill out his paperwork.

 _"Any history of mental illness? I wonder if my grandma counts._ " He thought with a smile as he went down the list. The double-sided sheet was difficult to fill out, considering he didn't know any of his family history. Hell, he didn't know his family at all, let alone what health issues they had…

"Shortman?"

Arnold looked up to see a middle-aged woman standing in the doorway with a disgruntled teen by her side. When she saw Arnold, she froze, mouth agape, giving the teen a perfect opportunity to slip away.

"Well," Arnold said, heaving himself off the chair and shoving his hands in his coat pockets. "Long time no see."

She looked pretty much the same. Her hair was still styled in a short bob but was no longer deep chestnut brown, but peppered with flecks of grey. She had a little more weight on her, but she was by no means heavy. But then again, twenty years had passed, she probably got married and had a few kids by now.

He walked towards her and she didn't move, just staring at him. Arnold smirked; this kind of reaction to him was what he was used to, this absolute shock at what he had become. This was where he thrived. He walked past her, not looking at her as he made his way into her office. "That's probably unprofessional, staring at me like that."

"You… you're not," she said, following him in and shutting the door behind her, blocking out the complaints of the soccer mom in the waiting room. "You're not the Arnold Shortman I'm thinking of, are you?"

"Do you know many other people with the last name Shortman?" Arnold asked with a laugh, sitting down on the couch. "Of course it's me."

"You changed so much," She said, sitting at her desk, still in disbelief. "You were… I mean to say, you used to…"

"What?" Arnold asked. "I used to be what? Happy? Optimistic? Twenty years will change a person, you know?"

"I suppose so," The doctor said, pulling papers out of her desk and sliding glasses onto the bridge of her nose. "I see here in your paperwork that these sessions are mandatory, would you care to tell me why?"

"No, I wouldn't," Arnold said, sitting up and clasping his hands in front of him. "I want to know what she told you about me."

"I'm sorry?" She asked, taking the glasses off and looking at him in confusion. "What who told me?"

"Come off it," Arnold said seriously, his voice low. "Helga came here when she was little, Doctor Bliss, and I know she talked about me. I want to know what you know."


	6. Chapter 6

"Alright Arnold, let me explain something to you," Dr. Bliss said, tossing her glasses on the table. "Some things don't change, and you were always a smart kid, so I don't think I have to explain HIPAA to you."

"Of course," Arnold muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes and leaning back on the couch. "You know she's dead, right?"

"I did," Dr. Bliss said, keeping her voice even. Arnold was wrong, she had changed. When she worked with children she was light and fun, using her charm and skills to get them to open up. But she was hardened, he could tell. She didn't play games any more, she didn't beat around the bush, or maybe that's just the way she was approaching him.

"You already know I'm not going to cooperate, huh?" Arnold said with a smile.

"I do," She said, her face stern and serious. "I'm sure there are a million reasons why you don't want to talk to a therapist, but if you want to waste both of our time, I still get paid."

Arnold raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Wow, you certainly have changed. I wouldn't have ever imagined you playing hardball."

"I could say the same about you," she said, looking him intensely in the eye. It made him uncomfortable and after only a few seconds he had to break eye contact. She smiled, "I knew it."

"Knew what?" Arnold asked angrily.

"I can see you trying to put on this tough guy act, you want people to leave you alone," She said, pointing her pen at him. "But you're still in there."

"What do you mean?"

"You have so much sadness in your eyes," She said, her tone changing, her voice softening. "You try to hide it behind anger, but you're not fooling me. You are still artistic, you are still sensitive, and you are in pain."

Arnold didn't reply, but cast his gaze out the window to the blinding white sky. She continued. "I just don't know why you won't let someone help you."

"No one can help me," Arnold said softly.

"Try me," Dr. Bliss replied, crossing her arms.

"I don't even know what to say to you," Arnold said, mirroring her and crossing his own arms.

"Answer my question," Arnold looked at her, confused. "You're here because it's mandatory. Why?"

"I 'haven't been the same'," Arnold said, throwing up air quotes to show his distain with the whole situation. "I changed."

"What were you like before?" She asked. Arnold hesitated. What was he like before? He was happy before…for a while. He was frustrated before, he was angry before, but he was also happy and motivated and passionate.

"Everything changed," Arnold whispered, looking at his feet. "She died, and everything changed."

"Helga was important to you?" She asked gently.

"You could say that," Arnold said softly, smiling at the memory of her. "We fought before she left. We fought a lot, but that last one… it was bad."

"Did you ever get a chance to talk about it?" Dr. Bliss asked. When Arnold didn't reply, she seemed to understand. "If you could talk to her today, what would you say?"

Arnold hesitated. Did he tell her about the…what? The ghosts? The dreams? Whatever the fuck they were, could he really trust her with this bit of information? "I would apologize to her."

"What did you fight about?" She asked him.

"I don't want to talk about that," He said quickly, harshly. He wasn't ready for that yet. She nodded and waited for him to continue. "We were so close. She was my partner at work, she was my friend. I just don't get why she…"

Why she what? He knew why she quit. He knew where she was going and why.

"Why she didn't try to reach you?"

Dr. Bliss's voice cut the silence with the question he couldn't come up with. He looked up at her, wide eyed. "Yeah, I never got that. Why didn't she want to be my friend anymore?"

"I'm sure she still wanted to be your friend, Arnold," Dr. Bliss said in a comforting tone. "I can tell she meant a lot to you and was a very important figure in your life."

Arnold scoffed, "Not that important."

"No? You don't think so?" Bliss asked with a hint of sarcasm. "She was important enough to change your life completely. She was important enough to change yourself completely."

Arnold had enough for one day. This was a lot to handle for the first session. He thought about his agreement, how he could have AASP back if he got back to normal. He was ready to cut Helga out if he could get back to something of a life. "I can't sleep most nights. Can you help me with that?"

Doctor Bliss sighed, clearly disappointed. She pulled a pad of prescription sheets out of her desk drawer and wrote him one for a mild sedative to help him get to sleep. She held it out to him but when he reached for it, she snapped it away, looking him in the eye. "I'll see you same time Wednesday?"

She wasn't giving up on him and he could see that in her eyes, so he nodded before leaving the office. She was going to force him to get better, she was going to dig into his mind and pull out the most painful memories he had. He'd get better, but he had a sick feeling he would have to sink to rock bottom first. " _Who the fuck are you kidding? You're already there."_

* * *

It was late…ish. Ten o-clock rolled around and Arnold sat on his bed, shirtless with sweatpants on, ready for a ghostless night. He grabbed the little orange bottle off his night stand and read the instructions. Take one an hour before going to bed. " _Fuck,_ " he thought to himself. He wanted to go to bed now, not in an hour. He forced the cap off and threw a pill into his mouth, swallowing it without water, realizing the longer he waited the longer it would take for the pill to work.

He sat there, staring at the floor, just waiting for sleep to claim him. Would it happen in time? Would he still see her? He decided to get comfortable, lying down and resting his head on his pillow, hoping it would help him fall asleep faster.

As he stared at the floor, a strange smell began to fill his nose. It was flowery, warm, almost tropical. He closed his eyes and decided to ignore it, but it got stronger and stronger. He heard a soft creaking noise coming from the floorboards. He had to see.

He sat up, stunned. There were vines coming out of the floor; green ribbons of plant life creeping up, swirling and spiraling, blooming with beautiful flowers he had no name for. Soon his room was engulfed in a carpet of warm grasses and plants. If he didn't know any better, he'd say it felt like the middle of summer rather than bitter cold winter. He rubbed his eyes, wondering what the hell kind of hallucination this was.

He heard voices, soft and distant. He stood, his feet cushioned by the soft grass. He looked towards his door and saw something moving, heading towards the hallway. He ran to the door and looked towards the kitchen, but it was no longer there. The plants had taken over his entire apartment and he stood in a strange corridor surrounded by tall, swaying grasses and flowers just like the ones in his room. He saw it again, turning a corner and suddenly obscured by plants. He knew for sure that someone was in his house, he had seen their bare feet, the hem of a dress. He ran after the stranger and saw her back this time, stopping dead in his tracks, watching her as she turned another corner. He didn't know her at all.

She had long, beautiful dark brown hair with half of it pulled into a ponytail, the rest flowing behind her in loose curls. She was wearing a strapless ball gown that looked like the color of champagne and had an intricate flower pattern stitched all over it. Delicate green vines danced across the fabric with small, rosy pink flowers. The back of the dress was tied like a corset, the ribbons tied at the base of her spine in a delicate bow. He had to know who she was.

Arnold followed slowly, watching her walk delicately through the greenery. She held the skirt of her gown up, her tan bare feet exposed. She walked like a ballerina, her steps deliberate and artistic in their grace. She looked like she was dancing. The closer Arnold got, he realized he was hearing music. Beautiful, intoxicating music that brought tears to his eyes. He could hear voices whispering to him. "Where are you going?"

"I have to know," He answered, his own voice sounding dream-like and far away. The girl kept walking away from him and he was always too far away to touch her. She turned a corner and put her hand out, brushing the tall plants with her finger tips. Arnold was jealous of the plants.

There were stone steps covered with moss, and she ascended them with grace. Arnold followed, but she was getting farther away with every step he took. He ran up them, trying to get to her. He climbed for what felt like an eternity until he saw her again. She had stopped and had her back to him, standing in a clearing of green soft grass. Arnold walked towards her and she didn't move.

He was a few feet away from her when he stopped. She slowly turned to face him and when she did, Arnold felt the tears spilling down his face. It was Helga. She was different, but it was Helga.

"What took you so long?" She asked, holding her hand out to him. Arnold hesitated, not sure of what to do next. She stared at him, smiling, waiting. He took her hand.

She pulled him close and put her other hand on his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. "Dance with me," She whispered, and Arnold obeyed. The music was still in his ear, beautiful and heart-wrenching. They moved slowly, swaying back and forth together. Suddenly, she lifted her head and pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes. Arnold copied her.

"Find me," She whispered.

"What?" Arnold asked, unsure if he heard her correctly.

"Find me," She whispered again. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," Arnold replied. He felt her pull away from him and he tried desperately to hold on. "I'm not going anywhere, I'll find you."

She was arms length away from him now, smiling at him as she walked away. Arnold tried to follow her but he was stopped by a very solid force that he could not cross. She turned away from him and he watched her walk away in the same manner as before, holding her skirt, brushing her fingertips on the plants as she left the open area. Arnold reached for her, but he couldn't go any further.

"Where are you?" He shouted, trying to get her attention. "I need to know! How can I find you if I don't know where you are?"

He felt himself being yanked backwards and tumbled to the ground. The moment his head hit the ground, he felt cold. He opened his eyes and found himself staring up at the night sky, grey-purple clouds obscuring the stars. He was freezing, his naked torso covered in snow.

"What the fuck man?" Gerald's voice reached his ears and he looked to his side to see his best friend sitting in the snow next to him on the roof of his apartment complex looking exhausted. "What did you do?!"

Arnold sat up and looked around. Sid was there too, sitting in the snow and breathing heavily as if he had ran a mile. He looked down and saw footprints in the snow- two sets with shoes, one without. He saw scuff marks in the snow over by the ledge. "What's happening?"

"You were sleep-walking," Gerald said, anger in his voice. "Sid called me when he couldn't get you to go back to bed. He was asking where you were going but you wouldn't answer, you just headed for the roof. When I got here you were standing at the ledge, leaning over the railing. It looked… it looked like…"

"Was I going to jump?" Arnold asked bluntly. Gerald looked at him for a moment, then nodded. Arnold pressed his fists to his face and felt the dried tear trails on his cheeks. "What the fuck? Was I crying?"

"Yes," Gerald said seriously.

"Well, that's embarrassing," Arnold said, getting to his feet. "I'm freezing, let's go inside."

He headed for the stairwell as Gerald and Sid watched him leave, stunned. Gerald caught up to him.

"Arnold man, we have got to talk about this," He said, following him down the stairs. "You nearly killed yourself in your sleep. What the hell happened to you?"

"I went to therapy just like Wolfgang ordered," Arnold said, pissed. "Just like you wanted. Just like everyone wanted."

"Therapy is supposed to help, Arnold, not make you suicidal," Gerald replied.

"I'm not suicidal, it was a dream," Arnold explained. "I asked the doctor for some sleeping pills because I haven't slept in days, and this must have just been a weird side-effect."

"Yeah no shit," Sid said from somewhere behind him.

"I don't understand it, Arnold, I really don't get what has happened to you," Gerald said with disappointment.

"You know damn well what happened to me!" Arnold yelled, turning and facing his best friend once they reached the kitchen. "Helga fucking died and she won't leave me alone."

"Arnold," Gerald said, but Arnold wouldn't listen.

"I know what you're going to say, because you've said it a million times before! She's gone! I know that! But that doesn't stop me from seeing her… I don't even know any more!"

"Seeing her?" Sid asked.

"I thought you were just hearing her voice?" Gerald finished. Arnold felt a lump in his throat. He hadn't told anyone about Helga showing up in his room.

"Yeah," He said, pushing his damp hair out of his face. "I see her now… she lies on the floor, or sits at the end of my bed and says my name. She's… she's haunting me I think."

"Maybe you need a different kind of drug," Gerald suggested.

"God damn it, why don't you listen to me?!" Arnold yelled. "Why can't you just, for one second, pretend like maybe what I'm saying isn't insane? That maybe I'm not some crazy psychopath but that this is actually happening to me? What if she…what if she's trying to tell me something?"

"Okay," Gerald said, pulling out a kitchen chair and sitting down. Arnold did the same. "I'll bite. Let's say this is actually happening and-"

"It is happening." Arnold interrupted.

"Fine, it's happening," Gerald said, putting his hands up, trying to keep the peace. "She's showing up and talking to you. What does she say?"

"She says my name," Arnold said, looking down at the table. "She…she told me she loved me."

Gerald didn't say anything. Maybe he knew it all along, but Arnold sure as hell didn't. He decided to continue. "She told me to find her."

"What does that mean?" Gerald asked.

"I don't know, but maybe…maybe there's more to her death than what we were told."

The room was silent as they considered the options. Gerald rubbed his eyes. "Arnold, it happened in Brazil. How would you even begin to investigate this? I mean, you were there, you were at her funeral. You saw the autopsy report, it came through our office. You saw the damn article printed by EARTH about her death. You really want to open this up?"

"Yes," Arnold said without hesitation. He smiled, "I wouldn't be a good cop if I didn't follow up on my intuition, would I?"

"This isn't intuition, man," Gerald said. "This is hallucination and drug-induced dreams. This is crazy."

"Well what harm would it do for me to open this case up?" Arnold asked. "I'm not doing anything with my time anyway, what harm would it do for me to do a little research?"

"I just don't see the point," Gerald replied, smacking his hands on the table. "It's a closed case, she was hit by a car. You saw the damn car man! You saw the dents!"

"Evidence can be faked!" Arnold yelled. "It can be altered! I just think there's more to this."

"Well what do you think happened?" Sid asked quietly. Arnold looked over to see his roommate leaning against the sink, staring at Arnold. Did he believe him? Did he have faith in what Arnold was saying? As if Sid could read his mind, he gave Arnold a little nod. Maybe he wasn't crazy after all.

"I think she could have been murdered."

* * *

If you watch Dr. Who, Abigail's song was what I listened to for Arnold's dream

Thank you


	7. Chapter 7

"Back for another session, Mr. Shortman?" The receptionist asked as Arnold walked through the glass doors and towards the elevators.

"Nope," he said without even turning to look at her. Her massive smile and bright eyes freaked him out. After a few weeks of talking to her every time he walked in, he decided she creeped him out too much and avoided her as much as possible. "Just going in to clean, I'm the maid now."

"Good one, Mr. Shortman!" She called after him, laughing boisterously. Arnold didn't respond and just boarded the elevator, pressing the button for floor seven and the "close doors" button repeatedly, his new routine.

"Seriously, that girl is creepy and I think you need someone new down there," Arnold said as he sat down in Dr. Bliss's office.

"Oh please, she's harmless," She responded. "Just over-enthusiastic, nothing more."

"If you say so," Arnold said with a shrug. "So are you going to tell me today or not?"

"No, Arnold," Dr. Bliss said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose between her eyes as if she had a headache coming on. "I'm not going to tell you want Helga said about you. You ask this every single time and the answer is always no, why don't you just give up?"

"A man's gotta try," Arnold said, but he dropped the subject.

"So what do you want to talk about today?" Bliss asked, leaning back in her chair. Arnold hated to admit it, but talking to her about his memories was actually pretty helpful. Even if she had nothing productive to add most of the time, just talking about Helga with someone other than his friends and family felt good.

"Did I ever tell you about collage?" Arnold asked. Bliss shook her head and Arnold dove in. "We didn't have any classes together, not a single one. She was going to be a writer, obviously, and I had no fucking clue what I wanted to do with my life.

"Language," Bliss said half-heartedly. She tried to get him to stop swearing all the time, but Arnold just ignored her requests. "What did you study?"

"Business with a minor in art," Arnold replied. Bliss looked a little stunned. "What? Can't a guy get a little culture in his life?"

"Of course he can, I just didn't know you were the artistic type," She replied.

"Turns out I'm better at appreciating art than actually, you know, making art," Arnold said with a laugh. "But anyways, we never hung out. I said we should when we were graduating high school, I told her we would see each other and be friends and whatever, but it never happened and I feel like a dick for it."

"Why didn't you?" Bliss asked.

"Oh, you know, we grew apart again," Arnold said, looking out the window casually. "We were very close as children and we hung out with the same group of friends, but by high school we had drifted. When we got to college I saw her every now and then at the occasional party or campus event, but other than that we were on our own separate tracks. It wasn't until she came to the police academy that we really got close again..."

 _There was a knock on Arnold's door. "Come in."_

 _He expected the reporter to show up at 1:30, but she was fifteen minutes early. She was pulling a notepad out of her messenger bag as she entered the room, face down. She sat down across from Arnold and got herself ready for the interview. When she finally looked up, they both gasped._

 _"Arnold?" Helga said, her eyes wide._

 _"Hey Helga!" Arnold said, instinctively standing up. He came around the desk and she stood as well and they hugged. It was a little awkward, but he couldn't help but feel happy seeing his old friend._

 _"I had no idea you were involved in this project!" Helga exclaimed, sitting back down. "When did you become a cop?"_

 _"Oh after business school I realized I hated being in that corporate world, so I decided maybe I'd give back to the community I grew up in." Arnold replied. Helga flipped her notepad open and wrote down what he said. "What better way than trying to get kids off the streets?"_

 _"Yeah, no kidding," Helga said, leaning back and shaking her head. "Remember when we were younger? Man, the nineties were a great time, huh"_

 _"They were great times," Arnold replied and scoffed, shaking his head. "I don't think I even knew what drugs were. Now I see kids as young as ten selling weed to their classmates. Sometimes harder stuff too. It sucks."_

 _"Yeah, tell me about it," Helga said, shaking her head as well, writing down Arnolds statements. "What ever happened to playing ball in the streets? Remember when we cleaned up that vacant lot and made Gerald field?"_

 _Arnold laughed, "Oh I remember, those were great times. We had so much fun playing in that park. You know, Gerald is helping me out with this to."_

 _"No way," Helga said in shock. "Gerald is a cop too? That's insane. You guys must be partners then, right?"_

 _"Oh yeah," Arnold replied. "I mean, what better team is there? We're hoping to make this into a legitimate program, but for right now, we use our time to help kids clean up their own vacant lots and parks. We want these kids to have better options. If all they know is drugs and violence, how can we expect them to be anything more than that?"_

 _"Too true," Helga said, nodding and writing. "So you said you wanted to make this into a legit program? What does that mean?"_

 _"Well right now, we are just doing side projects here and there," Arnold explained. "We want to create a program with funding and staffing so we can expand city wide, maybe statewide, and get other police officers involved. We can stop crime in its tracks if we can get em young."_

 _"Get em young?" Helga repeated._

 _"I can't tell you how many arrests we've made on drug and violence charges," Arnold said seriously. "Most of the time these kids are barely over eighteen. They get involved so young and their lives are ruined. I'm hoping we can steer them in a different direction. Maybe we could even get involved with an after-school program, get the kids really into learning and doing well in school. If we can reverse that awful cycle of poverty, we can change the world."_

 _"Maybe you can start getting people to donate money for kids to attend college," Helga said excitedly, pointing her pen at Arnold. "Education is key here, I can tell."_

 _"Yeah maybe!" Arnold said, pulling out his own piece of paper and a pen. "Mind if I write that down?"_

 _"Go for it!" Helga replied enthusiastically. She sighed and put her own paper down on her lap, looking at him with a weird look in her eyes. "You know, I'm really impressed with you, Arnold."_

 _"Seriously?" He asked, stunned._

 _"Yeah seriously," She laughed. "You're out here doing stuff, being active in the community, making a change. All I do is write about it."_

 _"That's important too though," Arnold said. "How else would people know about this stuff?"_

 _"Yeah, I guess, but I mean eight other papers are going to report on the same issues as we do," Helga replied, clearly frustrated. "Why should I write about it when so many others will as well? Not to mention in this digital age people can read about this stuff on line minutes after it happens. Print is a dying art."_

 _"Doesn't mean you should give up on it," Arnold said with a shrug._

 _She stared at him for a long time, her mind clearly at work. "How did you get into the police academy?"_

 _"A lot of studying, tests, and hard work," Arnold laughed. "Why?"_

 _"I don't know," Helga said coyly. "Maybe it's time for a career change."_

"So you were the fuel behind Helga joining the force, huh?" Bliss said happily, her pen to her cheek. "You must have been very inspirational."

"Yeah, I guess I was," Arnold said, rubbing his forehead. "But now look at me- a fucking paper pusher. The only good that comes from my job is I make the office a little tidier. We have some really fucking organized filing cabinets now, I can tell you that much. Do you know how depressing it is to pour over files of crimes that have long been forgotten? All the old rape cases before the rape kit was invented? I see so many files were the cases were thrown out or deemed cold that could have been solved. The families of the victims don't want to reopen the cases, they want to live in peace and forget what happened. Hell, in the rare circumstance that we do reopen a case a lot of times the criminal is either in jail for a different crime or dead. Where's the justice in that, huh? Why do these poor people get pushed aside and forgotten? It's not fair."

"It's not," Dr. Bliss replied seriously. "You are a very compassionate person, Arnold, I can see that. You want to help people, and you care."

"Yeah well being stuck where I am now, compassion doesn't really help me," Arnold grumbled.

"You'll get back to your old self, I can tell," Dr. Bliss said with a sly smile. "You will rebuild yourself. You have too much passion for your job to just fall between the cracks. I hope one day you will realize you can still make a difference."

Arnold smiled. Maybe therapy wasn't so bad after all. If it got him back on the streets where he could help his city, it was worth it. He paused for a moment, carefully thinking out his next move. "I want to re-open one case in particular."

"Oh yeah?" Dr. Bliss asked curiously. "What's that?"

"Helga's case," Arnold said quietly, seriously.

"Arnold," Bliss began, but Arnold shook his head.

"Hear me out, okay?" Arnold said, holding his hand up in defense. "I know it sounds crazy, I know. But I go through so many old cases in a day, re-reading details and evidence, and I understand why people gave up on them. There's not enough evidence to go on or all the evidence points in one direction and no one chooses to challenge it. I feel like, in Helga's case, the information doesn't add up."

"What makes you say that?" Bliss asked.

"She was hit by a car they said, right?" Arnold asked. "That's a very convenient way for her to die, if you ask me."

"It happens every day Arnold," Bliss said, trying to reassure him.

"I know, I know, but I've…I've been looking over her file." Bliss gave him a wary look, clearly worrying he was treading in dangerous territory. Arnold went on. "She was hit by a car during a protest rally right? Her co-workers were with her, correct?"

"As far as I've heard, yes," Bliss said, exasperated.

"Then where are their statements?" Arnold asked. Bliss didn't answer. "In her file, there are statements from other protesters saying they saw her get hit by the car, but none of those witnesses worked with her or worked for EARTH. If she was there with her project, don't you think someone would have been with her? There were all these other protesters who called for help, but no one from EARTH? That seems fishy to me."

"Arnold," Dr. Bliss said, her hand back up between her eyes. "Where are you going with this?"

"I want to know who the people were who saw it happen. Maybe they're lying. We have their names, and I googled them, and I can't find any information about them."

"Maybe because they were just civilians who were participating in a protest for clean water?" Bliss asked sarcastically.

"Maybe, but I think it's a sign," Arnold said. "If people from EARTH weren't there with her, maybe it was a set-up."

"How are you going to prove it was a set up?" Bliss asked. "There is no way you can go back in time and say 'this girl wasn't killed in a car accident.'"

"Sure I can," Arnold said, throwing his hands up. "That evidence isn't conclusive."

"Arnold, they found her DNA on the bumper of the car! It had a dent in it the size of a body! People saw her get hit! They saw her on the ground! She was taken to the hospital with severe injuries!"

"I'm not saying the evidence is wrong, I'm just saying it doesn't point to her dying from a hit-and-run!" Arnold said passionately.

"Then what? What do you think happened?" Bliss asked, getting agitated. "Paint me a picture, tell me your side of the story."

"I think someone, maybe Helga, got hit by that car. I think someone, maybe Helga, was taken to the hospital with critical injuries. I think her parents came down to say their goodbyes, but I don't think they said goodbye to their daughter."

"What the fuck, Arnold?" Bliss said.

"Language," Arnold said with a smirk. "What if she was at the protest- alone for some reason or another, not really sure why- and surrounded by strangers who saw this lovely blonde lady from the United States joining in their cause? What if they saw her get hit by a car, saw her get taken away by an ambulance, but no one really knew who she was? What if those same witnesses came to the hospital to see this woman and saw a lovely blonde lady lying in bed with bruises and cuts all over her body and said yeah, that's her. "

Bliss just stared at him, so he continued. "Yeah, maybe she got hit by the car. It's pretty damn convenient that the people who could recognize her weren't there for some reason, just strangers. What if someone took her?"

"What are you suggesting, Arnold?" Bliss asked, her voice hushed.

"I'm saying someone took her away," Arnold replied, his voice low and serious. "I'm saying someone came to the hospital, removed her from her room, replaced her with a body double, and that's who her parents said goodbye to."

"You can't be serious, Arnold," Dr. Bliss said. "You don't think her own parents would recognize her?"

"Maybe not, if her injuries were bad enough," Arnold said. Bliss was quiet again.

"This is a pretty crazy theory you came up with, Arnold," Bliss whispered. "What makes you think this could possibly happen."

"I had a dream about her," Arnold offered without hesitation. "In the dream, she had brown hair. She was tan, her hair was dark, but it was her. She looked different. What if someone stole her and disguised her as someone else?"

"You dreamed about this?" Bliss asked in surprise.

"She talks to me," Arnold said, leaving all caution to the wind. "She shows up in my room, she sits on my bed, she lays on my floor, and she talks to me. In the dream she asked me to find her. I don't think ashes her parents buried were hers!"

At that moment there was a knock at the door. Bliss looked over to see the door opening and her personal receptionist poking her head in to announce the arrival of her next patient. Arnold stood up.

"Thanks for listening," He mumbled before grabbing his coat and heading for the door.

"Arnold, wait," Doctor Bliss said, following him. He didn't turn around. She followed him into the hallway, but he was already in the elevator. "Don't do anything stupid, Arnold!"

He laughed at the sight of her worried face. As the doors slid shut, he waved goodbye.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey Gerald," Arnold asked as his old partner walked passed him in the hallway. He returned to work energized, ready to investigate his theory. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," Gerald said light-heartedly. He had a stack of papers in his arms he was rifling through and didn't look up at Arnold.

"Can you DNA test ashes?"

Gerald stopped in his tracks and looked up. "Oh, hell no, Arnold."

"What? I didn't say anything!" Arnold defended.

"No way man," Gerald was clearly pissed. "You're not going to test Helga's ashes for DNA. No fucking way."

"Hey, you're pretty good at that, you should be a cop," Arnold joked. "But seriously, can you get DNA from ashes?"

"As a matter of fact, you can't," Gerald said triumphantly. "The DNA gets destroyed by the heat, so leave that poor family alone and don't go desecrating any graves, got that?"

"Yeah yeah," Arnold said, disappointed. He was really hoping he'd be able to figure out if those ashes were hers or not. Apparently it was impossible.

Feeling defeated, Arnold sat down at his desk and pulled his laptop out. He had taken to surfing the internet during working hours when he needed a break from the endless paperwork. He opened his browser and went to the CNN website, reading the news. It was a quiet day, only a few 911 calls so far, nothing that concerned him anymore. The guy who usually sat in the cube across from Arnold was out sick so he had no one to talk to. He looked around, making sure no one saw him, before going to Google.

He typed in her name, as he often did, and went to image search, wanting to get a look at her. There wasn't much, some old profiles pictures from her still-activated Facebook account. Her sister decided to make it into an online tribute to her baby sister, but he tried not to visit too often. If he wasn't careful, he would spend hours going through her old pictures, connecting memories to faces, losing himself. He scrolled through the google images, strangers' faces passing along, pictures of graves- that hurt- and the occasional screen shot of published work from her. He would read a few articles now and then, hearing her voice bursting from the screen in her style of writing. It was very unique, no one wrote quiet like her.

He rested his chin on his hand, his eyes half-lidded as he scrolled. There was nothing. He was getting to those weird pictures that google threw up that were mildly related to what you searched but really were just a crap-shoot. Hell, half of the links weren't even in English at this point. Without warning, he saw it, and he fell out of his chair onto the floor with a bang.

He looked around and no one had seen him fall, but he really didn't care. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing the desk to hall himself up.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, no no no no no," He said, frantically scrolling up to the image that had hit him like a ton of bricks. When he found it, he clicked to enlarge. "Oh, Jesus Christ, no."

He stood there with his hand over his mouth to stop himself from yelling out. There was an image of a gala event. The description was in Spanish, but the name Helga Pataki stood out. It was a crowded room but no one could miss the beautiful tan woman with the long curly brown hair in the champagne dress with green vine detail. No one could miss that.

"Shit!" Arnold yelled, no longer able to contain himself. He slammed a fist on the table, and pointed at the screen, pacing back in forth in front of it. "I knew it, God damn it, I KNEW it! Fuck!"

"Anything the matter here, Shortman?" One of his fellow officers had heard the commotion and came over to see what the fuss was about.

"No, I'm fine," He said, running his hands through his hair. The officer looked at his desk, the papers sliding off the wooden surface onto the floor, his chair laying on its side. Arnold glared at him. "I said I'm fine."

"Whatever," He said warily, walking away. Minutes later, Wolfgang showed up. He sighed and shook his head.

"Really Shortman?" He asked, looking at the mess. "Clean this up then go home, you need a break."

"I don't need a break," Arnold said through gritted teeth.

"Would you rather go home or to see your therapist? Really I don't give a fuck where you go, but you can't stay here if you're going to act like this." Wolfgang said as he walked away. "Get your shit together by tomorrow, you're working my last nerve."

Arnold grumbled and picked up his chair, putting the papers back in uneven and untidy stacks on his desk, vowing to reorganize them in the morning. Maybe he did need a break.

He stood at her grave, staring at the stone bearing her name, birth date, and date of death. There was a quote from some author he was sure she liked, but he never bothered to ask. Why didn't he ask her more questions? The ground beneath his feet was soft, supple. The snow had begun to melt and patches of muddy grass were poking through the dwindling piles of jagged, icy snow. He could feel the moisture soaking through his shoes, his socks slightly damp and cold. He thought about how close her ashes were, how he could get them if he wanted. But was he really that kind of a person? Would he really rob her grave?

"Hello."

Arnold jumped when a soft voice called to him from behind. He spun around to see Olga Pataki standing there, one hand clutching the scarf around her throat and the other holding a wreath of flowers, staring at him. "Oh, it's you Arnold."

"Hey Olga," He said, slightly embarrassed. "How…how are you? It's been a while."

"Yes it certainly has," she said with a smile. The last time he saw her was Helga's funeral, and he made an ass of himself screaming in public. She walked towards him, holding the flowers up. "May I?"

"Oh, of course," Arnold said, stepping away from her head stone. Olga approached, placing the flowers on the grave and brushing away the snow. She stared at the grave for a very, very long time. Arnold came and stood next to her. "Do you…do this often?"

"Yes," she said, wiping away tears from her eyes. "I come at least once a week. I've seen others, you know. Other coworkers, cops, friends… you never came to visit."

"I have been…"Arnold started, preparing for an excuse. What has he been? Busy? Was he going to tell her he had been seeing Helga in his dreams so he really didn't need to come see her grave? That she was in his room all the time, so really this stone wasn't much better? "I'm sorry, I should visit more."

"I understand life gets busy," She replied softly.

"Can I…" How was he going to phrase this? "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," She said, looking up at him.

"Did you…save…anything?" He asked awkwardly. When she looked confused, he elaborated. "You know, like…any of the ashes?"

"Oh…" She exclaimed, clearly taken aback. "I mean… yes, I have some at my house, on the mantel… is this… is this really an appropriate question?"

"No, it's not, and I'm sorry I asked it, but I need to know," Arnold continued. "I was wondering…"

He knew this would be a shot in the dark and if he wasn't careful about the way he worded it, he could blow it. He wanted those ashes. Maybe her DNA wouldn't be in there anymore, but there had to be a way to get some information from them. There had to be something.

At that moment he heard laughter. He turned around to see two children running towards them. They had blonde hair and blue eyes, just like their mother. They ran up to Olga, each one grabbing one of her hands, holding hand-picked crocuses for their fallen aunt.

"Oh how lovely," She said, bending down on one knee and looking at the little purple blossoms in their hands. "Must mean spring is just around the corner. Did you know Helga loved Crocuses?"

"Yeah, she told us once," The little boy said, spinning the bud in his fingertips. Arnold's heart sank. He didn't know she loved crocuses. "Can we leave them for her?"

"Of course you can," Olga's voice wavered with tears. "She'd be so thrilled for your special gift, kids. I know she would."

The kids placed the flowers delicately on top of her tombstone. They ran off to collect more, with Olga yelling after them "Not too many, now, we want to save some for spring!"

She turned to Arnold when the kids were out of earshot. "What were you going to ask?"

"Oh," Arnold said, not sure if he should ask for her sister's ashes any more. Now it seemed almost cruel. "Do you think…do you think your parents would be willing to talk to me?"

"What do you mean?" She asked, her voice taking on a new level of concern. "They gave their statements at the station when she died. What else do you need to know?"

"No no," Arnold said, shaking his head and pulling his hands out of his pocket. He scratched the back of his head, looking for the right words. "I… to be honest with you, I've been seeing a therapist. Turns out Helga's death is affecting me more than I realized…I was just hoping to talk to them about her… you know, get a little closure? Maybe apologize for what I've done?"

Olga stared at him. He looked down, defeated. "Look, I know it's not much, but I really miss her. You might not believe me, considering the terms we left off on, but I do. It would mean a lot to me if I could talk to them. Please?"

Olga reached into her purse and pulled out a small notepad and jotted something down. She ripped the piece of paper out of the book and handed it to Arnold. "This is their number, you can call them if you'd like."

Her tone was cold and unforgiving. Arnold didn't blame her; she came here to show her respects to her sister, she didn't expect to see Arnold here and she definitely didn't expect him to ask for such a favor. She was pissed at him and he could tell. He thanked her and left, not wanting to intrude on her family's time any longer.

 _"How could I even dream of digging up her grave?"_ Arnold thought as he walked home. He was angry at himself for getting so caught up in his theory. He hadn't thought about anyone but himself in his quest for answers. He could really hurt people by opening this case back up. Maybe Helga's family was like all the others, the ones who just wanted a little peace of mind and time to heal. Nothing would bring their daughter back to them, so maybe the rest doesn't matter. Maybe the best thing to do was move on…

He rang the Pataki's up. When Bob answered, he lied again. "Hello, Mr. Pataki? Yes this is the HPD calling, I wanted to set up a time to talk to you about some of the details of your daughters' unfortunate passing. We have some new evidence we would like to follow up on and we would really appreciate your cooperation."

"Who the fuck starts a conversation like that?" Bob said over the phone. More like yelled, but whatever. "Look here, son, my daughter is dead and no new evidence is going to change that. She was hit by a car and that's that. Why don't you crackpots leave us alone for God's sake?"

The phone was slammed down onto the receiver, but he must have missed because Arnold could still hear the family moving around. He heard Miriam, Helga's mother, enter the kitchen, and Bob's muffled voice before yelled something to her about jackals never leaving them alone and the door slamming. He heard soft footsteps and the phone being picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello," Arnold said calmly.

"Is this…?" Miriam said, her voice filled with shock. "Arnold?"

"Yes," Arnold whispered. "I promise what I told Bob isn't a lie."

"What's going on?" She asked timidly.

"I have reason to believe Helga's death wasn't an accident," Arnold said calmly. "I think she may have… I think there may have been some interference. If you are willing to talk to me, I will get this solved. I promise."

"There is no official police investigation, is there Arnold?" She asked sadly.

Arnold hesitated. "No. It's just me working on a hunch. It's off the books."

She hesitated as well. "Where can I meet you?"

Arnold sat in a booth at the Good Food Diner, waiting for Miriam to meet him. His palms were clammy and his heart was jumpy; maybe it was anticipation over meeting with Miriam, or maybe it was being back here where memories of Helga leapt at him from every corner. If he tried, he could hear her laughing with the guys at the counter. A stool would creak and he would see her-see all of them really- reaching across each other for the ketchup, talking, really enjoying life. That was a long time ago, and now the memories only made him ache.

"Hey!" A happy voice pulled him back to reality. He looked up to see the waitress that used to serve them long ago. "I haven't seen you in forever! How are you?"

"Been better," Arnold replied, keeping his tone as positive as possible. He saw her tuck her little notepad into the hem of her apron. "I'm still waiting for someone."

"Alright, I'll come back then," She said with a warm smile, her dark brown eyes crinkled. Arnold could tell she was a kind person who loved her customers like family. She was the kind of person you'd want to come home to, someone who you could talk to about anything and she'd understand and make you feel better. He could just tell.

He watched her walk back to the kitchen, wondering if she still remembered his lunch order- cheese burger with potato chips right on the sandwich. It was a weird combo, but not unheard of. He was still absent-mindedly watching when the bell over the door chimed and someone walked in.

Miriam looked around anxiously, her hands clutching her small purse in front of her. Arnold stood up and held up his hand in a wave. She came over and slid into the booth. "You had some new evidence, you think?"

"Yes, I think so," Arnold said, shocked at her abruptness. He pulled out his phone and swiped through his photos, searching for the one of Helga in her ball gown. He found it, then put his phone face down on the table. "Can I ask you a few things first?"

"Sure," Miriam said. The waitress came over with two glasses of water and quickly walked away, realizing the seriousness of their visit. She was very perceptive.

"What happened when you went down to Brazil?" Arnold asked. "What did…what did she look like?"

"It's funny," Miriam said in a lofty, thoughtful tone. She looked ahead of her, through Arnold, lost in a thought. "It's not something I talk about much… what actually happened and what we saw when we visited… You'd think I'd forget…but who can forget seeing their child like that?"

Arnold didn't answer; he didn't want to pressure her. "She was in the hospital bed, covered with cuts and scraped. She was so badly bruised and her face was so…puffy. She had black eyes and a broken jaw, but they had an oxygen mask over her face as well. She was such a wreck. I don't know if she even heard us say we loved her…"

Miriam was getting teary, so Arnold pulled a pack of tissues out of his pocket. He had prepared for this and wanted to show her he appreciated her time. He handed her the tissues and she smiled, thanking him for his kindness. Arnold nodded. "What happened after you got there to see her?"

"Well," Miriam said, dabbing her eyes. "We sat with her for a while, watching her and talking to her, praying with her. Then the machines started beeping and a nurse came rushing in. She told us we needed to leave and we were sent out into the hall. Then some doctors came in and whisked her away to emergency surgery. They said she had a hemorrhage in her brain. An hour later, the doctor came out and said she was gone and they were sorry. It was… the worst moment of my life."

Miriam covered her face with her hand, crying harder now. Arnold felt like a dick, but he needed more information. "Did you see her after?"

"Yes," She replied in broken sobs. "She…she was covered with a blue sheet and they showed us her face again, just to be sure it was her."

"And was it her?" He asked without even thinking. Miriam looked up at him, shocked, and Arnold internally kicked himself for having absolutely no decorum.

"Of course it was her," Miriam said, disbelief in her tone. Disbelief in how crass he was, probably. "We saw her an hour earlier, she's our daughter."

"So the girl you saw under the sheet was the same girl you saw an hour earlier, correct?" Arnold pressed.

"Yes," Mrs. Pataki said firmly. "After that she was cremated and her ashes were sent home to us."

"Mrs. Pataki, can I show you a picture?" Arnold asked, pulling his phone up. He held the screen in front of her and she gasped, looking at the beautiful lady in the photo. "Is that your daughter?"

"Yes," She said, grabbing the phone from Arnold. She touched the screen, stroking the brown hair in the photo as if she could touch her daughter again one more time. "I haven't seen this photo before, but it's her."

"Was Helga a brunette when she died?"

"No," Miriam said, eyes glued to the phone. "Her hair was blonde again, but she died her hair a lot when she started working for EARTH."

Arnold wasn't expecting that. He felt his stomach drop. "She did?"

"Yes, of course," Miriam said. "She did right before she went to Brazil as well. She wanted to blend in when she got down there. Her hair is so fair though, color doesn't stick too well."

"So…so you've seen her with brown hair before?" Arnold asked, not sure where to go from here.

"Yes?" Miriam said, confused. "Why?"

"You said you hadn't seen his photo before, right?" Arnold was fishing for something, anything to support his theory. "Could it have been taken…after?"

"After what?" Miriam asked, confused. "She went to that Gala event, I remember her talking about that dress. She sent me photos, but I haven't seen this one. This one is really beautiful…what are you trying to say?"

Shit. In his state of utter shock upon finding the photo, he hadn't bothered to check the date. Turns out, it was taken before she died… not after… like he thought…

"I just thought…I thought maybe it was taken in the last year," Arnold confessed.

"She's dead, Arnold," Miriam said, looking at him like he was nuts. She stood up. "You can't take pictures of someone after they die."

She started to walk away, but Arnold reached out and grabbed her hand before she could get too far. "Do you still have her ashes?"

Miriam's face contorted into disgust and she ripped her hand out of Arnold's and dashed for the exit. It was worth a shot, maybe he could have gotten her to give him some of her remains to test for…what exactly? He already knew there'd be no DNA…

"Hey," The waitress was back and she slid into the booth next to him. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Arnold replied, sinking low in his seat. "Turns out my hunch was wrong."

"Why do you think that?" She asked, never mind what his hunch was about.

"Well, I thought I had some new evidence regarding a friend's death," Arnold explained, and the waitress nodded knowingly. She remembered Helga and probably knew all about her untimely end. "But it turns out I was wrong."

"Just based on what that woman said?" The waitress asked, pointing to the door. Arnold nodded. "If you're going to give up that easily, you aren't at all like I thought you were."

"Oh yeah?" Arnold asked with a laugh.

"Yeah," She smirked as the counter bell rang. She got up and grabbed a plate before returning to the booth, sliding his cheeseburger with chips in front of him. "Don't give up yet- you just need to get creative."

She smiled at him and put her hand on his shoulder before going back to the kitchen. Arnold stared at his food, thinking about what she said. If that wasn't Helga in disguise, but actually her own doing, then he had to rethink his plan… He knew he couldn't get the DNA… she frequently died her hair… however… there's still no proof the girl the Pataki's saw was Helga. Maybe she was blonde when she died, but that doesn't mean the girl in the hospital was her! The girl lying dead on the table could have been anyone!

Arnold smiled as he picked up his burger. He ate happily, rethinking his tactics. There had to be a way to prove she was alive. He wasn't giving up yet.


	9. Chapter 9

"Hey, I need your help."

A week had passed and Arnold had finally come up with a plan. Arnold had been waiting outside the diner for the waitress to end her shift. It was almost midnight when she turned the lights out and locked up for the night. She must not have seen him because she jumped a mile when she heard him and clutched her purse close to her body.

"Jesus Christ, don't do that!" She yelled, slapping his arm when she realized who it was. "Are you insane?!"

"Probably," Arnold replied with a shrug. "So are you going to help me or what?"

She relaxed and sighed. "Depends on what it is."

"Well, to be honest, I'm planning a breaking and entering," Arnold stated matter-of-factly. She stared at him, arms crossed.

"Seriously?" She said, clearly agitated. She walked past him, but Arnold caught up. "Aren't you a cop?"

"Yes I am, so I know how to do this without getting caught," Arnold said, walking backwards in front of her. She rolled her eyes. "Come on, you can trust me."

She stopped walking, eyeing him suspiciously. "I can trust you, huh?"

"Of course you can," Arnold said lightly. "Have I ever done you wrong?"

"You don't know me," She said rolling her eyes. She went to pass him but he cut her off, his hands clasped together to beg. She scoffed and he put on his saddest face, puppy dog eyes and pouty lips to boot.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" She cried. "Fine. I'll help you but you have to answer one question. If you get it wrong I'm out."

"Alright shoot," Arnold confidently took on the challenge.

"What's my name?"

Silence filled the space between them as Arnold frantically tried to picture her name tag. "Um…"

"I knew it," she huffed and pushed past him. Arnold watched her walking away and knew this would take some time.

"Look, are you going to bother me every day?"

Three days had passed and Arnold came to the diner every single day for lunch. Wolfgang was thrilled, the boys at the office were skeptical. As they should be, he was only using it as an excuse to get Maria (that was her name, Maria) to help him. He hung back after the rest of the boys returned to work every time to try to convince her.

"Alright, what is it going to take to get you to help me here?" He asked, practically following her into the kitchen. She made sure to push the swinging door hard behind her and it almost smacked him in the face. "Come on, Maria! I mean, I learned your name, that's what you wanted right?"

"I want money," She stated bluntly, appearing so suddenly at the kitchen door it startled him.

"What?" Arnold laughed. He almost didn't believe her. "Why?"

"Remember when I said you didn't know me?" She asked, her finger on her chin mockingly. "Never mind why I need the money."

"I'm a cop, I can't help but wonder," Arnold said with a shrug. "I could get in serious trouble if you are doing something stupid."

"You mean like breaking into someone's house?" She said, pushing past him and flicking her long black hair which was always kept in a high ponytail. It whipped him in the shoulder and he smiled. She had spunk and wasn't going to take his bullshit- he liked it. He followed her as she bused some tables after the lunch rush. "Don't worry, I promise you it's not illegal. Just need it for some family stuff."

"How can I trust you aren't lying?" Arnold asked jokingly, but when she turned to look at him she was dead serious.

"I never break a promise," She said, her voice somber. "Never."

It was getting late, almost two in the morning and Arnold was falling asleep in his car. He made an excuse to Sid as to where he was going to late. He thought about telling him he was going on a date, sort of a sick joke to himself ,but he knew Sid would never believe him. He told him he was called into work after a computer system crashed and he needed to locate the hard copies. Lame, but it worked with Sid.

"Where the fuck is she?" Arnold mumbled, staring at the unfamiliar apartment building she told him to meet her at. It wasn't the greatest part of town and now he was regretting agreeing to pay her. He quickly shot that idea out of his mind, accusing himself of being racist. He adjusted the rearview mirror to make sure he could see both the road and the ghost of Helga sitting with her back to the window, eyes closed and tear tracks running down her face. He whispered to the girl who couldn't hear him. "This is for you…"

There was a sharp rapping at the window and Arnold snapped his gaze to the passenger side of the car to see Maria standing there in jeans and a hoodie, her long silky black hair down and fluttering past her shoulders. Arnold was surprised.

"Your hair is down," He said simply when she got in the car. She eyed him suspiciously before smiling and tucking it behind her ear.

"Yeah, imagine that, I can take it down," She laughed. Arnold smiled and put the car in reverse. He looked back and saw Helga was awake and staring at him. He felt guilty for getting distracted from the mission at hand. She needed his help and he was looking at some girl's hair?

They drove in silence for a while. They never hung out before. After all, he just learned her name three days ago. He kept looking back at Helga, wondering if she saw him. He was nervous; he never broke into anyone's' house before.

"Hey," Maria's voice came from next to him. He looked over saw her look of concern. "You okay? Want to talk?"

Arnold sighed heavily. "What's your last name?"

"Ramirez," She replied. "And you?"

"Shortman."

She laughed. "That's a weird one."

Arnold smiled, feeling a little more at ease. He looked down at his hands and realized he had been white-knuckling the wheel the entire drive. He loosened his grip.

"Can I ask you something?" Maria said quietly. Arnold nodded. "Why do you keep looking at the back seat?"

Arnold looked at her and realized she looked very nervous. Did she think he had a gun or something? And if she did, why the fuck would she get in the car with him?

"Do you really want to know?" He asked. It was the wrong thing to say as she looked more terrified than before. He shook his head. "Don't worry, it's nothing dangerous, I don't have a gun or anything. We're just going to this house to get something I want."

"What do you want?" She asked, still more scared.

Arnold took a deep breath. If she could trust him enough to break into a stranger's house, he could trust her enough with his story. "Remember that girl we used to eat lunch with?"

"Officer Pataki? Yeah, she and I would talk a lot. Helga was a great girl… I'm sorry she died." Maria said sadly. It seemed the more he asked about Helga, the more she surprised him. She had been friends, more or less, with Maria. She liked crocuses. She died her hair. There was so much to her.

"I need her," He stated. Maria didn't answer for a long time.

"What?" She finally asked when she couldn't figure it out.

"We're going to get her," Arnold said just as crypticly. He couldn't just say it, the words wouldn't come out of his mouth.

"Do you mean…" Maria was starting to catch on. "We're getting…are you going to take…?"

"Her ashes, yeah," Arnold filled in the blank.

"Any particular reason why?" Maria asked, clearly regretting all of her decisions.

"I say her ashes, but to be honest I'm not one hundred percent sure they are actually hers," Arnold said, watching the tall skyscrapers slowly fade into town houses and smaller homes as they made their way to the outer ring of the city. "I just need the proof. I need to figure out if the ashes are hers or not. If they aren't… maybe she's dead, but I think something else happened. I don't think she was hit by a car."

Maria stared at him as he drove. He avoided eye contact. He whispered, more to himself than her, but she still heard. "She wouldn't be here if she didn't want to tell me something."

"Is that why you keep looking back?" She asked in a whisper herself. Arnold nodded, casting his eyes to the mirror again, almost impulsively. She was still there, but she was sleeping again. Her skin was such a pale white it glowed in the moonlight. "Do you see her?"

"She haunts me," Arnold said, not looking away from Helga. "She talks to me."

"Then let's go get her," Maria said, looking determined. Arnold looked at her, shocked. She looked back and smiled.

"You don't think I'm insane?" Arnold asked, surprised.

She shook her head. "If you think she's there, then she's there. If you think she's been wronged in death, then she deserves some justice. You deserve the truth."

"I knew I could trust you," Arnold said, feeling relieved. They were pulling in front of Helga's house, so Arnold slowed down. "Do you want to come with me or stay in the car?"

"Leave it running, I'll be down the road," She said, and Arnold brought the car a little farther down the road. He parked and turned the lights off and as he got out she climbed over the center console to take over the drivers spot. "When you get out, call me and I'll get you."

Arnold's stomach clenched. "I don't know your number."

She held out her hand and he handed her the phone. She put her name and number in and tossed it back to him. He almost dropped it, but eventually got a grip and pocketed it. She laughed as he walked away. He shook his head as he walked towards the house " _Get a grip."_


	10. Chapter 10

Arnold approached the window looking into the living room and realized it was too tall for him to reach, which he assumed. He looked around and found a solid- and full-trash can and stood on it. He pulled a variety of tools out of his coat pocket: a screw driver, wrench, credit card, wire hanger, and anything else he thought he'd need to break in.

He placed the screwdriver along the edge of the window, but hesitated. He forgot to check if they had a home security system… He jumped off the garbage can and went to the front door, peeking in with his hands cupped around his eyes. He didn't see any blinking lights or other indicators of a system. He looked around the house through the glass door, thinking about all the times he was in there when he was younger…

" _You're really the biggest loser I know, I hope you are aware," Helga said, rolling her eyes as she forced the front door open. She slid her back pack off her shoulders and tossed it on the floor in the entry way._

 _"I'm just saying, aren't we here to do the project?" Arnold asked, embarrassed. Helga cast him a look and shook her head. "Then what are we here for?"_

 _"Oh relax football head, I'm not going to take advantage of you or anything," She said, walking down the hall and flicking her hand, brushing away his concern. He didn't think she was going to take advantage of him, whatever she meant by that, but nevertheless he blushed. "We'll get to the project eventually, I'm just saying it's way too nice of a day to waste indoors. Let's do something first."_

 _Arnold smiled and followed her into the kitchen. She was in the fridge, bending over and looking for something to drink. She had a pink sundress on with converse sneakers and he thought it was funny how she twisted her feet, tapped her toes, and scratched the back of her calf while she perused the fridge. When she stood up, she had two bottles of soda in her hand and placed on the counter for Arnold._

 _"Our project is supposed to be on a political topic of our choice, right?" She said, heading for the front door again. Arnold followed without question. "Well let's go walk around the park and think about it. There, that's the perfect compromise. I get to enjoy this warm day and you get to nerd out and start our final project two weeks early…"_

Arnold smiled as the memory flooded him, filling him with warmth. His heart hurt a little, thinking back on such a simple time as high school. He missed being genuinely happy, genuinely carefree. He leaned on the door and the knob twisted- it was unlocked!

He fell forward into the entry way, grabbing onto the door before it slammed into the wall. He braced himself and waited, his breath caught in his chest, for someone to hear him. After a few moments, he realized no one was coming and he proceeded into the house.

He walked into the living room, his eyes scanning. He saw the urn sitting on the mantle, that green vase with the gold detail shining in the moonlight. He walked over, keeping his steps quiet, and stared at it. He almost expected it to burn him, or if he picked it up a boulder would come out of the ceiling and chase him out of the house Indiana Jones style. When he put his hands on it, it was cold. He lifted it up and it wasn't as heavy as he expected. Maybe it was because her ashes had been shared with the rest of the family, or maybe she was so heavy on his mind he expected her to have a little more substance in real life. Either way, he pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket labeled "HELGA" and opened it, pouring her ashes into it. He sealed the bag and put it back in his pocket, patting it as he did to make sure it was secure. He went into his other pocket and pulled out the bag labled "DECOY" and poured the ashes into the urn to replace the ones he had stolen. When he put the delicate glass jar back on the mantle, he felt a surge of emotion. Pride that he had done it and not gotten caught, anger that he had to do it, and sadness that he felt it had to be done. He stared at the jar, remembering her funeral.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to say this yet," He whispered, tears forming in his eyes. He wiped them away, putting his hand in his pocket and closing his fist around the bag containing his friends burnt body. "Goodbye."

He kissed his other hand and put it on the lid, closed his eyes, and turned around to see Helga standing right behind him, staring at him. Arnold fell backward into the fireplace, scraping his hands on the brick as he slid down the wall, sitting on the floor. She stared straight forward, the same tears falling down her cheeks, mixing with blood from her lip.

"Oh god," Arnold whispered, feeling his chest tighten. Was he going to have a panic attack? He tried to steady his breathing, staring up at the girl who stared blankly in front of her. She closed her eyes and turned her face to the ceiling, a smile forming on her lips, though she still looked so sad. She put her hands on her face. He saw her eyes clench in a painful cry behind her fingers. She dropped her head, face towards the floor as she cried. She tensed her hands, pushing her rigid fingers through her hair in frustration.

"Oh, god," She whispered, eyes still shut. The tears Arnold had in his eyes earlier were falling down his face as he watched her. Did she hear him? Was she repeating him? Where was she?

She let go of her hair and wrapped her arms around her middle, her fingernails digging into her flesh, holding herself in. If she let go, she would surly fall apart. She gasped and opened her eyes, locked her gaze with Arnold. She was staring at him with such intensity; Arnold could feel his chest tightening as he sat on the floor, terrified.

"Find me."

* * *

Arnold stumbled out of the house, pulling the door shut behind him and locking it. If he left any trace of himself there when he had fallen over, he hopped a locked door and no sign of forced entry would keep the Pataki's from thinking they had been robbed of their dead daughter. He practically ran down the stairs, stumbling at the bottom but catching himself on the railing. The car was next to him and he heard Maria jump out of the car. She ran over to him and grabbed him just as he slid down to the ground again, panting.

"What happened?" She asked, concerned. She was on the ground with him, pushing his drenched hair out of his face as he tried to get control of his breathing. He couldn't talk, he just shook his head. She looked scared. "Come on."

She lifted Arnold of the ground with more strength than he was expecting. She supported him to the car and opened the passenger door for him. He collapsed into the seat feeling like he had run a marathon. His body was tired. She got in the car next to him and drove, no words, no hesitation. They made their way back to the city before she asked him anything. "Where do we go?"

Arnold didn't answer her; he couldn't find his words yet. He had his head against the window, watching lights pass by. She didn't ask again but took him to the diner. It had been closed for a long time, the windows dark and the parking lot empty. She turned off the ignition and waited.

"Sometimes…" Arnold said quietly. She didn't look at him, but sat perfectly still looking out the windshield and he could feel the tension as she waited for his explanation. "…sometimes I think she can hear me."

"What did she say?" Maria asked.

"She was in the living room. She was right behind me," Arnold said, talking slowly. "She keeps asking me to find her."

"So you think…" Maria started, testing the water. "You think maybe…maybe she's not dead at all?"

Arnold took the ashes out of his pocket and put the bag on the dashboard. "This bag says otherwise. This bag says I'm wrong."

"I didn't ask what that bag things," Maria said with a hint of attitude. Arnold looked at her and she was smiling slightly. "I didn't ask what anyone thought except for you. What do you think?"

"I think her parents said goodbye to the wrong girl," Arnold said. "I think someone took her. I want her to be alive, but my gut is telling me she's gone. Why else would she haunt me?"

"So what are you trying to do, then?" Maria pried.

"I guess I just want to know the truth," Arnold said with a shrug, putting his forehead back on the cool glass window. "I want to find out what happened to her so I can find her and the real Helga can come home, or at least her story can. I just want to honor my friend."

All of a sudden there was a pressure on Arnold's hand. His instant reaction was pull away, but he fought that feeling back. He didn't want to offend Maria, who had placed her hand on his and was smiling at him. "That's a really lovely thing to do for someone. She's lucky you care so much."

"Thanks," Arnold said, not sure how to respond. "For everything."

"No worries," She said, squeezing his hand once and letting go.

For some reason, in the dark with this practical stranger, Arnold suddenly, finally, felt like talking. "No, you don't understand. Most people think I'm insane. I've changed so much in a year… maybe it started before that, I don't know, but I feel like everyone's given up on me. It's nice that you just let me…let me do this I guess. No one else would help me, not like this. They wanted me to forget and move on. I don't want to forget."

"If people wanted you to get better, really get better, they'd listen to you," Maria said quietly. "Sometimes you just have to do what you gotta do to get better. Just as long as you don't lose yourself in the process."

"It's funny, I feel more like myself right now, today, than I have in a long time," Arnold admitted.

"Good," Maria said with a laugh. "There's little in this world worse than losing yourself."

"The way you talk, sounds like you know how that feels," Arnold said off-hand.

"Not personally," She said, and Arnold was surprised to hear her slide the key in the ignition and start the car back up. "Another story for another day though. Where are we going now?"

"Not the station, my boss would fucking end me if he figured out what I just did…" Arnold said, pushing his hand through his hair, thinking. "I think my place is best to be honest."

"Lead the way," She said, cranking the wheel and turning out of the parking lot.

* * *

Arnold opened the door to the apartment as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake up Sid. He poked his head in, scanning the room to make sure his roommate didn't fall asleep on the couch or something. When the coast was clear, he walked into the apartment and beckoned Maria to follow. They went to his room and he closed the door with a quiet click.

"So what are you going to do with the ashes?" Maria asked as Arnold cleared a space on his cluttered desk and threw the bag of ashes down. He shoved his hands in his pockets, staring at the stolen body in front of him.

"That's a great question," he said with a sigh. "I've been told the DNA gets destroyed when a body is cremated, but I'm hoping there's something in here to prove me wrong."

Arnold stepped forward and opened the baggie and Maria let out a groan. "Oh, gross."

"Excuse me?" Arnold laughed, looking back at her standing there with her arms crossed and a look of pure disgust across her face.

"Are you going to…you know…touch them?" She asked, pointing to the bag.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to, you know," Arnold said with a roll of his eyes. He started rifting through his junk to find a good vehicle to place the ashes in. He settled on an old baking sheet- why it was in his room he had no idea, but it worked. He sat down and prepared himself for the task at hand while Maria made a gagging noise. "I'm serious, you don't have to sit through this if you think it's gross."

"Nah, I'll get over it," She said, crossing the room and sitting cross-legged on his bed. It made him a little uncomfortable. No one had been in his room, let alone his bed, in ages. He was self-conscious about the condition of his sheets, but she didn't seem to mind. "Besides, I'm sort of involved now, I feel like I have to see what you find."

"Alright, if you say so," Arnold replied before turning back to the bag. He decided to just fucking do it, and he dumped the bag on the tray. He understood Maria's disgust when a small cloud of dust puffed up from the tray and he tried his best not to inhale. The thought of breathing in dead body ashes was a little much for him. He found a pen on his desk and began sifting through the dust, looking for any evidence at all.

"Do you think you'll find anything?" Maria asked. She sounded tired.

"Not really," Arnold replied, suppressing a yawn. "But it's worth a shot.

Time passed. His back ached from being hunched over so long. Arnold set the pen down next to the pile of ashes he was diligently working on and sat up straight, stretching his back as best he could. He looked out the window to see the pale line of day break peaking around the buildings of the city. He realized Maria hadn't said anything in a long time and looked back to see her slumped against the wall, still cross-legged and asleep. He watched her for a moment, wondering if he should wake her up or not. He decided to let her sleep a little and got back to work. A voice in the back of his head nagged him. _"Don't you think it's weird you basically met this girl three days ago and she's asleep in your bed?"_

He shook his head and concentrated on the girl in front of him, the one he was trying to rescue. He sifted through the ashes, wishing he had come up with a better plan before jumping in like this. He blamed the lack of sleep as he used the pen to dig little circles in the ash, trying to get anything to surface that looked out of place. He slid he tray back and forth like a sift, creating a thin layer of grey matter in front of him. He pushed, pulled, dug through the ash until he saw it.

"Maria wake up," He said in a hurried voice. She stirred but didn't wake. Arnold grabbed a hoodie from the floor and threw it at her. When it made contact, she jumped awake. "Come look."

She stood up slowly, stretching. Arnold was too excited to wait. "Today would be nice."

"Geeze, nice to see you too," she said coming to the desk. "What?"

"Look," Arnold said, pointing to the tray. There, at the top left corner, poking out just a little bit from the edge of the pile was a bit of hair that had somehow, miraculously, survived the fire. It was blonde.

"Is that…?" Maria said with squinting eyes.

"Yeah," Arnold said, excitement fueling him and he completely forgot how tired he was. "I think there's a chance we could get some DNA out of it."


	11. Chapter 11

Despite the lack of sleep, Arnold threw the ashes back into the bag, placing the little hair right at the top for easy finding. He threw his jacket on and went searching for his shoes while Maria watched.

"Are you seriously going out again? Right now?" Her eyes scanned over to the clock. "It's four in the morning."

"I know a guy, he'll be up," Arnold replied as he slid his feet into his steel-toed boots.

"Man, I have to be at work in four hours, mind dropping me off at my place before you go?" Maria yawned, stretching her arms behind her back. "Hopefully I'll get a few hours of sleep before I have to work two shifts.

She was cranky, Arnold noted. "You didn't have to stay, you know. I said you could leave, you didn't want to. You said you were 'invested.'"

Maria had her arms crossed and gave him a look of pure annoyance when he used finger quotes. "I am invested, doesn't mean I can miss work though. I'd rather not fall asleep around open flames, you know."

"Fine," Arnold said, walking out of his room. He wasn't annoyed that he had to drop her off; it was nice having company for once and- if he was being honest- he didn't really want to go through this alone. The thought of going back to solitude wasn't appealing.

She followed him to the car and they drove in silence. When they got to her apartment building, she sat in the car and looked at him, waiting for him to say something. Despite the awkward silence, he wouldn't give in. "Are you mad at me or something?"

"Nope," Arnold replied, hands on the wheel, eyes forward.

"Really?" She said, a hint of frustration in her voice. "Because it feels like you are. Look, I'm sorry, but I have to go to work. There's nothing I can do about that."

"Then go," Arnold said, reaching across her and opening the car door.

She shook her head and left, slamming the door behind her. Arnold was about to drive away when she was at his window, knocking. He rolled it down.

"You owe me, by the way," She said angrily, hand out and palm flat. "You said you'd pay me."

Arnold reached into his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash. "How much?"

Maria looked at him for a long time. He had a hard time reading her feelings, but she didn't look as angry as before. She looked disappointed if anything. Her eyes wouldn't let him leave. She nodded, as if he had said something to her, and put her hand on the windowsill. "Never mind."

"No, how much?" Arnold asked, leaning out the window. She was walking away.

"I don't want your money," She said, her tone sad. Arnold called her back a number of times, but she didn't come back.

* * *

Arnold pulled up to a dilapidated office building. He scanned the windows at the base of the building, trying to detect any signs of life. He smirked when he saw a light flicker on. Parking the car, he climbed the crumbling stairs and found the doors were left unlocked, so he let himself in.

The hallway was dark and cold with tiles missing from the floor and exposed wiring from the lights, but Arnold was no longer fazed by this. He shoved his hands in his pockets and made his way to the stairwell. It was dark so he pulled out his phone and lit his way down to the basement. He opened the big metal door and found the clean white hallway brightly lit. " _I knew he'd be here."_

At the end of the hallway he came to another big, solid door. When he knocked, the sound echoed through the stark hallway. He heard keys fumbling in the lock, and when the tumblers finally clicked into place, the heavy door creaked open just enough for the man inside to peek out. He was short, scrawny, and pale with round glasses and messy blonde hair that was almost as white as his skin. If there was anyone who needed to get out more, it was Brian. He pushed the dirty round glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked through the sliver of doorway at Arnold, who stood there with his hands out to the side. "Surprise."

"Oh, fuck no," Brian said before attempting to close the door in Arnold's face. He didn't see Arnold slide his boot into the cracked door. He was glad he thought ahead and went with the steel-toes, as Brian repeatedly slammed the door into his foot, trying desperately to get away from Arnold. After a few minutes at this feeble attempt, Arnold rolled his eyes and grabbed the door, forcing it open. Brian stumbled out of the room and stood in the doorway, defeated. "What the hell do you want from me, Arnold?"

"I need your help," Arnold replied stepping into the brightly lit lab. Brian followed him, slamming the door behind them.

"Why the fuck would I help you?" Brian asked. Arnold took his coat off and threw it on the nearest table, which Brian promptly took off the table and threw it back at him. "We don't work together any more, remember?"

"Oh come on, you can't still be mad at me," Arnold said, pulling himself up on the table, swinging his legs. "It's not like I got you fired."

"Yeah, whatever," Brian said, going over to his desk, pulling his chair out and sitting down. "You were a factor."

"I'm still not one hundred percent sure why you think that, but okay," Arnold replied. He really didn't know why Brian hated him so much all of a sudden. He didn't do anything to get him fired from the police force; in fact, he barely worked with him. Brian was a forensics guy and Arnold focused his life on getting kids off the street. Brian had more intense cases. He saw some of the worst stuff in his department. He dealt with murder cases, rapes, kidnappings, everything Arnold couldn't stomach. He may look like a wimp, but Brian helped put the worst people behind bars. Arnold just tried to keep people from committing the crimes in the first place.

"What do you want from me?" Brian asked, anger etched into his face. "I don't owe you a god damn thing."

"No, you don't," Arnold said, fishing in his pocket for the bag. He took it out and placed it on the table next to him, "But you're a smart guy, and I know you can't pass up this opportunity."

Brian looked at the bag next to Arnold with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"Look, this isn't an official…investigation, if you will. The police aren't involved. In fact, it's probably better if they aren't involved because this is an old case that has been deemed closed. I'm reopening it."

"Why?" Brian asked, wheeling his chair over. Arnold had him.

"I'm not going to tell you why until you help me out, okay?" Arnold said, snatching the bag up off the table when Brian reached for it. "But I need you to run some DNA tests for me."

"They won't get back for a couple of months," Brian said, leaning back in his chair. "I'm back-logged."

"With what?" Arnold asked with a laugh. "You don't work for the cops anymore, what could you possibly be doing?"

"That's none of your god damn business," Brian said, standing up angrily and walking to the door. He opened it and pointed into the hallway. "Leave the bag and get out. Now."

"How about this," Arnold said, standing up. "What can I do to make this your top priority? What would it take for me to get the DNA results back ASAP?"

"For you to leave me the fuck alone," Brian said, still standing with the door open. "If you never come back and never bother me again, plus give me a thousand bucks, I can get you you're results in a week."

Arnold was shocked. He didn't think Brian would be willing to help him out this easily, but at the same time he was risking him as a potential resource in the future. He didn't ask for his help much, if ever these days, but he was never going to stop searching for Helga. Who knows, maybe he would need some more tests in the future? Would Brian even be willing to help him in the future?

Probably not. "Done."

Arnold tossed him the bag and went to leave. Before Brian could shut the door on him, Arnold put his fist on the door. He went into his wallet and fished out $500 dollars and put it in the pocket of Brian's stark white lab coat. "That's half now. If you do what I ask, you will get the other half. If you do anything to mess this up, if you don't do what we've agreed upon, or if it takes longer than a week, I'm coming back for that. With interest. You got me?"

"Fuck off," Brian said, pushing Arnold into the hallway and slamming the door. Arnold knew he wouldn't mess this up. He was smart and it was a hell of a lot easier doing what Arnold asked and getting it over with than fighting him on it. Arnold would never kill him, but… he could justify a little threat of violence if it meant finding out what happened to Helga.

* * *

Work was a bitch. Arnold could barely focus on his stupid paper work with everything that just happened swimming around in his brain. He couldn't wait to figure out what was in those ashes.

"Shortman," Wolfgang's voice snapped Arnold into reality and he saw his boss standing there with a happy look on his face. "You still going to Good Food for lunch?"

"Yeah, sometimes," Arnold said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Probably not today though."

"No?" Wolfgang asked, clearly disappointed. "I heard a bunch of the guys were going, you should join them."

"I'm not hungry," Arnold replied, wanting to be left alone. Wolfgang looked at him for a long, awkward time. Arnold couldn't stand it. "Just kidding, I'm starving."

"That's what I thought," Wolfgang said, slapping Arnold on the shoulder. Arnold rolled his eyes as he walked towards the door, his boss watching him the entire time. He felt like a child.

When he entered the diner, he saw the guys all sitting at the bar with their lunches, chatting happily. A clenching feeling in his chest accompanied Arnold as he slid onto the stool next to Gerald and the conversation stopped. The guys looked at him- true, he had been eating lunch there, but rarely did he join in the conversation…or even really sit with them. Most of the time he put a buffer of one stool between himself and them, along with shoving his headphones in his ears. Today, however, he decided to join in.

"Hey," he said with a nod. The rest of the guys nodded back, gave a little wave, or scoffed at him. Gerald, however, turned towards him. "Man, I'm not really welcome anywhere these days."

"Well you can't really blame em, can you?" Gerald said, waving a waitress down. Arnold noticed it wasn't Maria. "How's it going man?"

"Ah, you know," Arnold said with a shrug as the waitress brought over a coffee for him. "Better, for sure, but still not great."

"Yeah, but better is good," Gerald said, taking a long drink of his own coffee. The last time they really talked was when he asked about the ashes, and before that Gerald had pulled him off the roof. Arnold could tell he liked better. "You still thinking about Helga's case?"

"Eh," Arnold said with a shrug. He wasn't about to spill the beans about the stolen ashes. He was waiting for his results. If the ashes were hers… who knows, maybe he'd give up. But for now, given Gerald's reaction when he brought up the subject in the first place, he decided to keep his friend in the dark. "I would like to know what really happened, but I'm not sure where to start. I'm skeptical, but not hopeful… maybe in time I can learn to accept it like everyone else, but we'll see."

"You'll get there, man," Gerald said, slapping his hand heavily on Arnolds back. "Sorry I had to be so rough with you about the ashes. I didn't want you doing something stupid."

"Yeah, you were right though, no need to desecrate any graves." Gerald laughed, but Arnold didn't mention breaking and entering and stealing the ashes worked just as well as grave-robbing. At that moment the kitchen doors opened and Maria came out with a tray full of food. She walked right by Arnold without even looking at him.

Gerald watched as Arnold's eyes lingered on her, following her, before he turned back. "Did…is something going on between the two of you?"

"No," Arnold replied too quickly, and Gerald gave him a suspicious look. "We hung out like…once. But nothing happened."

"Yeah okay," Gerald said laughing, taking another drink of coffee.

"I'm serious," Arnold said, getting the implication from Gerald's tone.

"No no," Gerald laughed, "I believe you. Clearly she's avoiding you like the plague because nothing happened. Maybe something should have happened, then she'd be nicer to you."

Gerald laughed even harder as Arnold shook his head, looking away from him. "It's not like that."

"Hey, come on, man," Gerald said, nudging him. "I'm just messing with you. You need to lighten up! I just want you to be happy."

"I know," Arnold replied, stabbing at his food with his fork.

"Who knows," Gerald said, looking at Maria. "If you make it up to her, maybe she could make you happy."

"I'm not ready for dating, I don't think," Arnold sighed. He didn't like this part of the healing process, as they say. The 'getting back out there' phase, although truth be told there was nothing to really get back out there from. He and Helga never dated. They weren't a couple, so how can you 'get back out there' when there was nothing to begin with? The voice in the back of his mind brought up Helga's voice admitting her love for him, and he felt his stomach clench.

"Everything with time," Gerald said with a knowing smile.

Arnold waited outside the diner in the cold, leaning up against the wall. He was waiting for Maria to end her obnoxiously long shift. He shivered and swore under his breath when he saw tiny delicate snowflakes start fluttering to the ground. Around eleven, she finally came out the back door.

"I'm sorry," Arnold whispered as she walked past him. She jumped and turned around.

"You have to stop this," She said, rolling her eyes when she saw him. "This creepy stalker hiding thing? It's not cute."

"I'm not trying to be cute," Arnold said gruffly. Why did he have to be cute? He didn't want to be cute. He didn't want to like her and he didn't want her to like him. "I just wanted to apologize and give you this."

She turned around and saw him with his hand outstretched, clasping a chunk of change. "I told you I don't want your money."

"I know," Arnold said, advancing towards her with his hand still out. "But you helped me like you promised, and I figured if you keep a promise, I should too."

Her look softened and she took the money, thanking him quietly. They stood in silence as she pocketed the money, not bothering to count it. Arnold smiled and characteristically put his hands in his pockets, rocking on the heels of his feet. "You don't want to know how much?"

"Anything helps," She said with a smile. Arnold went to walk away but felt her hand on the crook of his arm. "Look, I want to say something to you."

"Then say it," Arnold said, trying to keep his tone open and inviting. "I'll listen."

"I was serious when I said I was invested," Maria said, keeping eye contact with him. It made him uncomfortable. She was really, really good at it. "I want to help. I've always thought you were a nice guy, and I want you to be happy."

Arnold didn't reply. He didn't know what to think. She thought he was nice? Was Gerald right? Did she want something to happen?

"But if we are going to be friends," She said, her tone serious. Arnold felt himself breathe again at the word _friends_. "You have to be better than you were this morning. I have a life, I have things I need to do and things I need to take care of on a daily basis. I can't follow you around like a lost puppy. If I want to go home and take care of my own life, I want to be able to do that without you acting like a child, got that?"

"I got it," Arnold said with a smile.

"I know you don't want to be alone," She said seriously. Arnold was sure she could read minds, because that's exactly how he felt this morning. "But you have to trust me- if I'm going away for a bit, it doesn't mean I'm going away forever."

"I know you wouldn't," Arnold replied. "I get that you have work, and a life. But you're right, I don't want to be alone."

Arnold found himself spilling his guts, the words tumbling out of his mouth without a second thought. "When you said you had to go to work today, I was worried you didn't want to help me anymore. I didn't want to go back to doing this alone; too many of my friends have already left me. I don't want to be alone, but I'm always prepared for people to leave. It seems to be a theme in my life. Perhaps…perhaps I was too defensive too quickly with you."

"I kind of sensed that happened a lot," Maria said, squeezing his arm. "You've had some hard times, haven't you? And not just in the past year."

Arnold nodded, and she mirrored him. "Yeah, I thought so. Well, I've been though some hard stuff too, and I know it takes a while to trust again. Still friends?"

She held out her other hand, not breaking eye contact with him, waiting for a handshake. Arnold grabbed her hand and they shook once. "Still friends."


	12. Chapter 12

"So I'm kind of an ass."

Arnold didn't even wait for her to say anything or even invite her into the office. He walked into the building, two steps at a time. He didn't say hello to the receptionist with the creepy smile, just got on the elevator, pressed seven, and manically smashed his finger into the close door button while trying to ignore her questioning him. He walked into the office and opened the door to Dr. Bliss's room despite her secretary exclaiming he couldn't go in there in pure movie fashion. When he announced his ass-like tendencies, both Bliss and her crying patient stopped dead and looked up at him.

"Sorry," He said, holding an apologetic hand up to the crying man. "Didn't mean to interrupt or anything, just wanted to let you know you're in for a great story today."

Arnold pulled the door shut before anyone could say anything and flopped down in a seat. He only had to wait three minutes before the other patient left (in quite the hurry, not making eye contact with Arnold). Bliss glared at him. "What the hell is your problem?"

"It's a mystery," Arnold said, slapping his hands on the arms of the chair before hoisting himself out. "Besides, isn't that your job to figure it out? Not mine?"

He strode into the office right past her. She followed, slamming the door. She was too angry to notice him pacing nervously. "You do realize you're not the only person with problems right? That man is going through a painful divorce and you scared the crap out of him."

"Oh like you really want to be listening to someone whine about that," Arnold said, sitting on the couch. In a few seconds time he was back on his feet, pacing. "You should be happy I'm coming to see you voluntarily anyway, doesn't that mean I'm making progress or some shit?"

"You still have to make an appointment, you know," Bliss said with a sigh. "Is this an emergency?"

"I'd say so," Arnold said, his tough guy exterior faltering as he prepared to tell her what he'd done. He ran his fingers through his hair as he recalled what he had just done. "I just ruined someone's life."

Earlier that day, Arnold had returned to Brian's office. He came early in the morning so he didn't have to run into anyone else, and because Brian always liked working alone he knew he would find him. He barely had to knock on the door before it swung open, Brian standing there looking incredulous.

"What are you playing at?" He asked, eyeing Arnold.

"What do you mean?" He asked, truly curious.

"Those ashes you gave me," Brian said, sure Arnold would confess to something. When he didn't, he opened the door wider and invited Arnold in. "Well, I found something I suppose."

"You suppose?" Arnold asked excitedly.

"Yeah, there was that hair," Brian said, pulling out a file from under his coffee cup. There was a ring on the manila cover. "Along with a few trace fragments of bone."

"You're joking," Arnold said, pulling the file out of his hand. He opened it and saw a bunch of information he couldn't understand. "So what does this say? Did you find out who it is?"

"Oh come on Arnold," Brian said, snapping the file back out of his hand. "You can cut the act."

"I don't know what you mean," Arnold said. "I wanted to know who the ashes belonged to. You were able to find that out right? You had the hair and the bone."

"Yeah," Brian said, narrowing his eyes. "Are you being totally serious with me?"

"Yes?" Arnold asked, concern growing. "Why? What did you find?"

"The bone and the hair weren't human," Brian said, showing him the file again and pointing at the DNA lines, to which Arnold shrugged. "They were from a goat."

"A goat?" Arnold asked, his stomach bubbling with excitement. "Is there any way these ashes could have been human and those fragments just happened to get mixed in?"

Brian shrugged. "I mean, I guess, but I doubt it. People don't generally cremate a goat. And if they did, they wouldn't bring it to a crematorium. These ashes have the texture and consistency of professional cremation. Usually that's reserved for people only."

Arnold backed up, hands in his hair. "It's not human. Those aren't from a human."

"No, they're not," Brain said. "You can take my word for it, and I'm a professional. Now get out."

"Thank you so much," Arnold said, shaking Brian's unwilling hand. He turned and walked away, papers still in hand.

"Do you want the ashes back?" Brian asked.

"No, no," Arnold said, in a haze of thought. "It's not her."

"I'm sorry?" Brian said, his voice now had a little edge. "They aren't hers?"

"Yeah," Arnold said, slowly coming back to reality. "It's not…I was just looking into something and I needed help… it's not an official case so…I don't need to tell you do I?"

Brian's face drained of what little color he had. "Was it Helga?"

Arnold didn't answer, and Brian's face dissolved in anguish and tears. He put his fists in his hair, falling to his knees. He stayed like that, crumpled, for a long time, before letting out a wail of sorrow. Arnold didn't know what to do.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!" Brian yelled, still clutching his hair.

"Brian…"

"YOU JUST DON'T GET IT, DO YOU?" he yelled, staggering to his feet. "YOU NEVER UNDERSTOOD HOW I FELT! I LOVED HER, GOD DAMN IT, I LOVED HER SO MUCH! WHAT IF THEY WERE HERS? YOU FUCKING MONSTER!"

Brian came at Arnold, fists balled and flailing as he tried to punch any inch of Arnold he could reach. Arnold held him off, grabbing his wrists, but Brian attacked with such blind fury he knocked both of them into the cabinets behind them, knocking them to the floor with Arnold and Brian not far behind. Once on the floor, Brian landed a solid punch to Arnold's left eye, to which Arnold got his feet under Brian and pushed, launching him off of him. Brian slid across the floor, coming to rest on the cold tiles under the table. He lay there, face up, arms out, and cried. Arnold got up and waited cautiously to see what he would do next. Brian turned his face from Arnold and curled up into a ball. He looked so small and devastatingly sad under the table, like he had lost everything. He had lost everything, and Arnold made him relive it. Arnold came closer and bent down to touch Brian, to try to comfort him in any way he could. Brian recoiled at his touch and glared at Arnold with such hatred, Arnold withdrew his hand as if he had been bitten.

"You have no idea how much that girl meant to me," Brian hissed.

"I'm sorry," Arnold said, his voice quiet and far away from him. "I didn't know. I didn't know."

"She loved you," Brian said, tears still flowing. "She loved you, and she never loved me. All I ever wanted was for her to love me."

"I didn't know she loved me, Brian," Arnold said, sliding onto his knees. "I never knew, I only found out after she died."

"Of course you didn't know," Brian said, laughing viciously. "That's just great. I loved her my entire life and you never knew how she felt about you."

Arnold didn't respond, he waited for Brian to finish. "She would…she had a picture of you. She had it in a locket that she carried with her all the time. She loved you so, so much. I just wanted her attention. Just once, I wanted her to notice me. She never did."

"I'm sorry," Arnold whispered. She what? She had a picture of him?

"That's why I was fired," Brian whispered back. He sat up, hugging his knees, his face pressed into the fabric of his pants. "I told her…I finally told her…and she turned me down. She told me we could still be friends, and I lost it…"

Arnold recalled the day Brian was fired. He was escorted from the station, two officers holding him by the upper arm, while he cried and thrashed, anger etched in his face. Arnold tried not to look, tried to give him some of his dignity, but he had clearly lost every ounce of pride he ever had. He lost everything.

"That's why I came here," Brian whispered. "I could work alone, in peace, away from everything and everyone. I didn't want to live any more. I threw myself into my work because it's the only thing that keeps me going."

He looked over at Arnold. "Why would you bring me this? Why would you tempt fate like this? What if they were her ashes? What if…"

He looked down at his hands, shaking, as he pictured himself sifting through the ashes of the woman he had loved. He was breathing heavily. "Go away."

"Brian," Arnold said, reaching out to him again. Brian swung his fist at Arnold again, and Arnold backed up, falling over backwards on his ass.

"GET OUT! I WANT TO BE ALONE!" Brian yelled, still swinging. Arnold scrambled to his feet and backed away to the door. "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"

Arnold watched him from the door as he sobbed. "She was my everything. She was the only good thing in my life and she never even wanted me. I'll never have anything as good as her in my life again. She's gone, and you fucking brought all this back to me? How could you?"

Arnold could barely hide his sorrow and pity for the man in front of him. He fished the last $500 out of his pocket and placed it gently on the desk before backing out of the office.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know any of this," He whispered. "I'm so sorry, Brainy."

* * *

"When I was leaving, I heard an ambulance siren," Arnold said, still on his feet, pacing the floor. He was trying very hard to keep the tears from welling up in his eyes. "I feel terrible, and I don't know what to do."

"Arnold," Dr. Bliss, her voice soft, comforted Arnold. "You couldn't have known. There's no way you could have known."

"I know," Arnold said, his eyes betraying him and letting the tears fall. "I know, but I still feel terrible… I made him relive the worst memories of his life. The man was in constant pain and I brought it back. I thought I was sad about Helga? He's a total wreck."

"I don't think he loved her the way you do," Dr. Bliss said.

"You're right," Arnold said, throwing a hand up in the air in frustration. "He loved her more than anything, he loved her for his entire life and wanted nothing more than her. She's just my friend. There's no way for me to even fathom how he's feeling right now."

"No, Arnold, that's not what I meant." Arnold stopped pacing. "Brainy was obsessed with her, but he didn't love her. I'm sure if you asked him, he could tell you any detail about her life. He could tell you where she lived, what she liked to eat, where she was on what day, all of that. But he didn't know her like you do."

"I don't understand," Arnold was frustrated. "What do you mean?"

"I'm saying you loved her," Dr. Bliss said seriously. "Brainy loved the idea of her."

"I don't love her," Arnold said defensively.

"You do, Arnold," Bliss said. Arnold shook his head, so she went on. "You probably know her favorite color, but not just the color but the shade and why she likes it so much."

" _dusty rose, because it's pink but not like, BLAH pink," Helga said, laying in the grass at the rose garden park. Arnold was next to her, they stared up at the sky while she talked about roses and he listened with a smile. "It's softer, nicer, warmer, you know?"_

 _"Oh yeah," Arnold said with a laugh. "Because BLAH pink is just so harsh."_

 _"You know what I mean," Helga said, her hand coming out of nowhere to slap Arnold on the forehead. "Not like hot pink or baby pink. Hot pink hurts your eyes and baby pink makes you gag. Dusty pink makes you think of old movies and memories."_

"You probably know what her favorite thing to eat is when she's had a rough day," Dr. Bliss's voice pulled Arnold out of the memory and tossed him into a new one.

 _"I hate everything," She said, sitting on the couch cross-legged, burritoed into a blanket._

 _"Oh really? Tell me more," Arnold said sarcastically. She threw a pillow at him._

 _"I'm so sick of the academy," She said, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. "I want to be done with it. There are too many ass-hole guys who think that a woman can't be a good cop. What the fuck do they think is going to happen? I'm going to agree and run out of there crying? What happens when they have to work with me? Does this just keep happening?"_

 _"Of course it does," Arnold said, plopping down on the couch next to her and turning on the T.V. "But you can always bitch to your friends."_

 _"Give me that," Helga said, yanking the remote out of his hand. "I want to watch cartoons. OH!"_

 _She leapt off the couch, throwing her blankets back, and startling Arnold. "I want food!"_

 _She ran into Arnold's kitchen and started rooting through his cupboards. She was mumbling, swearing, trying to find everything she needed. The smell of popcorn filled the apartment and soon she returned with an array of weird junk food._

 _"What the fuck is all this?" Arnold asked._

 _"It's what I like, so leave me alone," She said, rewrapping herself in the blanket. She had a carton of ice cream, a bag of Oreos, and a popped bag of kettle corn. She crushed the cookies in her hands and sprinkled them into the chocolate ice cream. After getting a spoonful, she pressed three pieces of popcorn into the cold sticky mess and put the entire thing in her mouth. She looked over to see Arnold's look of pure disgust and shock. She mumbled with her mouth full "Leave me alone."_

 _Arnold cracked up, and she did too, before offering him some of the concoction. "I swear it's delicious."_

 _She was right, of course._

"You knew her, Arnold," Bliss said, still trying to get him to understand what she meant. "Brainy didn't know her. You loved her more than he ever could and ever will because he will forever be in love with the idea of her, but he never got to know her the way you did."

"Great, now I can feel bad about that too," Arnold threw his hands in the air and flopped onto the couch. "It's not like I wanted to take her away from him."

"Of course not, but you can't change what she wanted," Dr. Bliss said. "If she didn't like Brainy, that's not your problem. She loved you, and she wanted to be with you, there's nothing you should feel guilty about. You can feel bad for him, sure, but there's nothing you can do to change what happened."

"If those ashes were hers, I could have brought him the love of his life. Dead. He could have touched her ashes and never even known about it." Arnold said seriously.

"Well, I want to talk to you about that, but we will get there when we get there," Bliss said, eyeing him angrily. Arnold shrugged, smiling at the bit of normalcy. "But even if the ashes were hers, you didn't know anything about their relationship or why he got fired. You went to a trusted colleague for help."

"I knew he hated me," Arnold pointed out. "I never knew why until today."

"But you still worked with him and knew he did good work," Bliss retorted. "Who else would you have possibly gone to?"

"Good point," Arnold replied.

"But to that point, you probably shouldn't have taken any ashes to anyone because what you did was highly illegal."

"But worth it, right?" Arnold said, smiling. "The ashes aren't hers. They're from a goat."

"Arnold," Dr. Bliss sighed, rubbing her eyes. "I wish you'd give up on this."

"You can't be serious," Arnold exclaimed. "I literally found proof that her parents don't have the right ashes. This is a very good lead. This could mean she is still alive or buried someplace else."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Dr. Bliss asked. "What happens now, Arnold?"

"I don't know… I haven't gotten that far yet…" Arnold said defeated.

"You admit that she may still be dead, correct?" Bliss challenged. Arnold nodded. "So if you find out that she really, really is dead, then what have you accomplished?"

"She asked me to find her," Arnold said seriously. Bliss looked at him. "I still see her, and I still hear her. She finds me all over the place now. She was in my car, at her house, and she will not stop until I find her. I need to do this for her. It's what she asked me to do."

"But why, Arnold?" Bliss challenged again. "Why do you need to do this?"

"Because," Arnold said, the words stopping in his throat momentarily. _Just fucking admit it._ "Because you're right. I love her."


	13. Chapter 13

"I wish I could talk to you."

Arnold was sitting on the floor, back against his bed, looking at Helga. She was across the room, sitting with her back against the wall, looking right at him. She wasn't saying much tonight, just his name again. This time it was his turn to talk to her.

"I wish I could ask you…ask you about everything," Arnold whispered, willing for her to hear him. "I want to know how long you loved me for. I want to ask you about Brainy. I want to tell you…"

Although he said it in Dr. Bliss's office, he was finding it hard to come to terms with his newly discovered emotion. Had he always loved her, or was he just now realizing this because she was dead? Well, maybe dead, maybe not. If he could prove she was alive and somehow found her, would he still feel the same?

"This sucks," He said to her. He scooted across the floor and sat right next to her. She still stared forward, but he turned to look at her. "This whole not-really-knowing-how-I-feel thing? It's confusing as hell. I don't think I've ever been in love before. That, or maybe I was in love for a really, really long time and didn't realize it."

She closed her eyes and smiled, leaning her head back against the wall. Sitting this close to her, Arnold saw some of the brown dye left over in her hair. He wondered when the last time she had it colored. "How can I honestly say that I love you when I know so little about you?"

Dr. Bliss said he knew her better than Brainy did, but was that true? He didn't know she died her hair, he didn't know about the flowers, he didn't know anything really. Arnold closed his eyes and sighed heavily, rubbing his face with his hands. Once she left the police force, they really didn't talk much… He would always regret that.

"It's okay," Helga whispered. Arnold's eyes snapped open, and he turned to her. She was still smiling with her eyes closed, head back. She breathed in, deeply. "It's okay."

"Can you hear me?" Arnold whispered. She didn't move or react at all. He sat as close to her as humanly possible, still not wanting to touch the illusion in front of him- just in case. He leaned in towards her ear. "Can you hear me?"

Helga's eyes opened. Arnold's heart felt caught in his throat. "Helga?"

She turned her head quickly, away from him. He lurched backwards, the sudden movement startling him. She was nervous. She put her hands on the floor and pushed herself up. She was standing against the wall staring at the unknown. Arnold watched as she took four or five deliberate steps and vanished.

"I guess not," Arnold said, defeated. He got ready for work.

* * *

"So they were from a goat?!" Maria exclaimed, shocked. Arnold nodded, taking a sip of coffee. Maria rested her face on her hand, a look of pure astonishment on her face. "Wow… So what do we do now?"

"Well I was hoping you might have some ideas," Arnold said, smiling. She smiled to; Arnold could tell she was enjoying being this involved. He didn't tell her about Brainy yet… or the visit to Dr. Bliss.

"I guess the big question now is whether or not she's even alive, right?" Maria said, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "We need to know what she was doing in Brazil, why no one from work was with her at the protest, and if those weren't her ashes where her body really is."

"Sounds simple," Arnold said sarcastically. "Should have this solved in no time."

Maria laughed, standing up from the booth. "My break is almost over. You gonna to stay here for a while or what?"

"I guess I should get back to work…" Arnold reluctantly looked at his watch, sighing. "Maybe in between my mountains of paperwork I can get a little research done, see what comes up on Helga."

He stood up and pulled his wallet out, but Maria stopped him. "Please, it's just a cup of coffee and a bagel. It's on the house."

"No come on," Arnold wrestled her hand away, trying to pull out some cash. "It's like, three bucks, what do you care?"

"Fine," Maria said, throwing her hands up. "But just so you know we give all the cops discounts every now and then. You guys are our best customers, and now that you're back you show up more than anyone. You could get in on this free food action if you wanted."

"Maybe next time when I order more food," Arnold said with a laugh, throwing a ten on the table. Maria pretended like she didn't notice. Arnold threw on his jacket and headed for the door, turning around to wave goodbye.

* * *

The office was slow. Winter break started for the schools so a lot of people were taking days off to spend with their families. Arnold didn't mind, it made it way easier to slack off and work on his Helga research without people constantly checking in on him. He opened his laptop and pulled up the internet. He constantly google searched her, occasionally staring at the picture of her in her gala dress, marveling at how she looked.

"Brown hair looks good on you," He whispered to the screen with a smile, knowing she would have had some snarky remark for him in return.

"Well thank you," A voice said, making Arnold jump. He looked up to see Gerald standing at his cube, smiling at his own joke. "I've thought about changing it, but if you like it I guess I'll keep it."

"Good, but if I get a vote I say lime green for your next color," Arnold said, quickly trying to minimize his windows.

"What are you up to?" Gerald asked with a look of suspicion on his face.

"Nothing." Yeah, because that sounded convincing.

Gerald leaned over the desk just as Arnold minimized his last window, but not soon enough. Gerald saw the picture of Helga. "Who was that."

"No one," Arnold said, but Gerald already grabbed the mouse and pulled the pages back up. There was one of Helga, her obituary, and EARTH magazine's contact information. Arnold looked up at Gerald sheepishly. "How did those get there?"

"Cut the shit," Gerald said, angry. Arnold sighed and prepared himself for yet another lecture. "I thought you were getting better man?"

"I am," Arnold said, a little offended. "Doesn't it look like I am?"

"No," Gerald said without a second thought.

"Come on," Arnold reasoned with him. "I'm going out more, seeing more people, doing more stuff, I'm happier… why can't you just let me have this?"

"Because it's unhealthy," Gerald said, crossing his arms. "Let it go."

"Yeah, whatever," Arnold said, leaning back in his chair.

"I'm serious, Arnold," Gerald wouldn't leave him alone. "I care about you and I want to make sure you're living your life to the fullest. Obsessing over this isn't helping you at all. I want to see you back on the force, I want you to succeed. Don't you want to continue with AASP?"

He did. Or at least, he thought he did. Right now his only focus was Helga. He hadn't taken time to think about what his life would be like when he found the truth. What would he have to live for then?

"Look," Arnold said, ready to defend himself. "This is helping me, okay? It's giving me something to do and something to look forward to. It might not seem like a good idea to you, but it's getting me through my days. If I don't do this, I'm going to lose my damn mind. I know you don't believe me when I say I see her and I hear her, but I do. She wants me to find out what happened to her, and maybe then I won't be fucking haunted by her any more, okay?"

Gerald didn't respond. He looked sad for his friend. "Just let me get it out of my system. Please."

Gerald sighed. "If it helps you man, but I think in the long run you're going to regret not trying to work past this. You're dwelling on something you can't change."

* * *

"I don't know if he's right or if I am," Arnold said, sitting in Bliss's office again. "In the long run, is this doing more harm than good?"

"It's hard to say," Bliss said, leaning back in her chair. They were both looking out the window at the sunny sky. Despite the cold weather, the office was bathed in warmth from the sunlight. "Right now, the benefits are clear. You are getting out more, you're seeing people, you aren't a shut-in by any means."

"But what about the future?" Arnold asked. "What happens if she's dead, I find out where she is, and that's that? Then what?"

"Then you move on," Bliss said. Arnold scoffed; how many times had he heard that? Just move on? If he couldn't move on now, what makes everyone think he could move on later?

"It's not that simple," He mumbled gruffly.

"It really is, though," Bliss replied. "If she is dead and you find out where she is, it's over. You have no choice but move on with your life. It's as simple as that. I never said it would be easy to move on- quite the contrary. It will be a long road with a lot of hardships, but hopefully your desire to honor her will reconnect you with your loved ones and they will be there for you when the time comes for you to let her go."

Arnold smiled. "You know, it almost sounds like you are supporting my idea of finding her."

Bliss rolled her eyes. "Look, don't get me wrong, I still think the way you are going about it is…well… a little unorthodox to say the least, even a little illegal. But I've been thinking…"

"And?" Arnold questioned, hopefully. Maybe he wasn't crazy after all if his own therapist thinks he could find her.

"I don't want you thinking I agree with you on this, okay? I'm afraid you think she's alive out there somewhere and you are going to find her and everything will be back to normal. I think that's a little farfetched, to say the least. However, after giving the whole goat ashes thing some thought…well… it's not unheard of that maybe her body ended up somewhere else…"

Arnold beamed, so Bliss back tracked, hands up, shaking her head. "Look, this isn't at all professional. As a therapist, I shouldn't be giving in to your plot. But she was my patient too and, well, I'm attached. I understand why you want to find the real Helga and have her buried the way she should have been, it's what anyone would want for a loved one. All in all, if you want to find out what happened to her, how her life ended, I say it's not a bad idea. I don't think you should be stealing ashes, I don't think you should be breaking any more laws, and I don't think you should be putting yourself in harm's way… but I do think you need closure and you aren't going to find that until you know where she is and how her life ended."

"Fair enough," Arnold said. "I'll take whatever support I can get."

"Just don't be disappointed if things don't end up the way you want them to," Bliss said. She was nervous-clearly she was going against what all of her training told her to do. But then again, she was only human.

"At this point," Arnold said as he stood up, checking his watch. Their time was almost up. "I don't really expect anything. I don't know what I will find, but the bottom line is as long as I can see and hear Helga, my mission isn't complete. I know I will be done when she is finally at rest."

"How are you going to handle that?" Bliss asked, walking him to the door.

"Handle what?"

"If you're right and she's 'haunting' you," Bliss said with unnecessary air quotes that made Arnold angry. "How will you feel when you can't see or hear her any longer?"

Arnold didn't answer. He hadn't thought of that. He had become so reliant on hearing her, it had become such a major part of his life, he couldn't imagine what it would be like when that voice was gone.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see."


	14. Chapter 14

Arnold didn't feel like going back to work after his session with Dr. Bliss. He had a slew of feelings and thoughts racing in his head and walking the city felt like the best thing to do right about now. Dr. Bliss thought he could be right, that Helga's body could be somewhere else. Maria was supportive of him and wanted to help him find her. He felt rejuvenated in his search, yet his head and his heart were not on the same page.

He had lied to Dr. Bliss. He did have some expectation as to what he would find. If he went with his head, he just wanted to figure out what happened to her no matter what. His heart? Well, his heart wanted her to be alive. His head told him it would be better once he solved the mystery and he could let go and the voices would stop and she would rest easy. His heart told him, if she was dead, maybe he should give up the search now so he wouldn't have to let her go. His mind wanted to get better, his heart wanted to stay where it was comfortable. His head told him to find the truth, his heart told him to find her. However different they may be, at least they were on the same page about one thing: there was still a lot of work to be done.

He found himself in front of P.S. 118. He looked up at the old building, the painted letters chipping and some of the bricks crumbling. School wasn't in session, so the front doors were locked. He walked up and peered into the windows and saw that nothing had changed. It made him smile. He went to the back where the playground was and squeezed through a gap in the fence. Was he being creepy? Sure. Did he care? Not one bit.

He sat on the swings and looked around, remembering back to the fourth grade, his first year at the school. What a great time it had been, what wonderful memories. He closed his eyes and let his feet drag on the blacktop as he swung back and forth, back and forth, his hands clasped on the cold metal chain.

"Arnold?" He opened his eyes and saw a small, slight teacher standing in a classroom, hands on the open window. "What are you doing here? You know this is state property right? Not to mention a school, so…you know, probably not the best place for an adult man to be hanging around?"

Arnold smiled. "Nice to see you too, Phoebe."

"Want to come in?" She asked with a smirk, leaning on the window frame. Arnold nodded and she disappeared. Moments later, she was at the door to the playground, holding it open for him to come in.

"So how are your classes going?" Arnold asked as they walked down the deserted hallway together. "Still teaching AP biology?"

"Yep, and AP Physics," Phoebe said, tucking her hair behind her ears, embarrassed. "I know, big nerd as always, right?"

"No," Arnold said seriously. He never thought of her as a nerd, not once. "You are extremely smart and that's something to be proud of."

"Thanks, Arnold," She smiled. They walked in silence until they reached her classroom. She opened the door for him and he hesitated. She looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

"The last time I was in this classroom was high school…" Arnold replied. "There are some tough memories associated with this room."

 _The bell rang and everyone stood up, quickly gathering their books before heading into the hallway._

 _"Four minutes is barely enough time to get to your next class, let alone stop at your locker," Gerald said, juggling too many text books. "I hope carrying all these books pays off. I except to be jacked by prom."_

 _"Yeah right," Arnold laughed. "Like carrying ten pounds of books is going to do anything."_

 _They were soon joined by Phoebe and Helga, the latter of whom decided to slap the pile of books Gerald had teetering in his arms. Of course, they fell to the floor. "Hey there boys, make sure you're not late for class."_

 _She laughed and walked away while Phoebe bent to help Gerald. Arnold watched uncomfortably, not knowing if he should stay or leave the lovely couple alone. When they stood up, Gerald thanked her awkwardly and she blushed._

 _"Hey, listen," Gerald said, pulling her aside. Arnold pretended to tie his shoes. "Would you… you're going to prom with me, right? I know we're dating and everything, but I thought I'd just make sure."_

 _"Of course," Phoebe said with a giggle. "I was hoping you'd ask me anyway."_

 _"Great," Gerald sighed. Phoebe smiled, but as soon as Helga called for her she hurried away, waving as she went. Gerald's smile stretched a mile across his face, his eyes dopey and dreamy._

 _"Seriously?" Arnold said, a little disgusted. "You've been dating for like, a year now, and you still look like that?"_

 _"Shut up," Gerald said, embarrassed. "Anyway, who are you going to ask, casinova?"_

 _Arnold didn't reply; truthfully, he hadn't really thought about asking anyone. His one crush, Lila, had moved back home about a year ago, so she was out of the picture. Who else was there, really? They entered the bio classroom and took their places at their lab benches. Phoebe and Helga were gossiping at the table behind them. When Arnold turned to look at them, he noticed Helga was staring at him. She quickly averted her eyes, as did he, but not without an embarrassing amount of blushing._

"I regret never asking her to prom," Arnold said, perching on one of the lab tables. Phoebe didn't even have to ask who he was talking about. Did she know how he felt? "I mean… it would have been fun, you know? The four of us going…"

"Well, there's nothing we can do to change that now," she said somberly. "I'm sure she would have had fun with you though. It was a shame you guys didn't go at all."

Arnold nodded but didn't respond. He would love to go back and change so many things. "Listen…Phoebe?"

"Yes?" Phoebe responded, not turning around as she pretended to straighten her papers. "How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long did she love me?"

Phoebe was silent, but she stopped moving. She stood up straight, still facing away from him. When she turned around, her eyes were full of tears. "Forever."

Arnold shook his head, looking down at his feet. Her simple one word answer was like a blow to the heart. "I wish I had realized it sooner."

"What?" Phoebe said, shocked.

"I…" Arnold searched for the right way to tell her. She would be the first person he told, and it was scary. "I've been going to a therapist. I'm sure Gerald told you."

Phoebe didn't respond; she waited for him to continue on his own. She was good like that. "It's the same one Helga saw…we've been talking about her a lot. Actually, she's the only thing we talk about. I… I think I loved her too."

Phoebe let out a quiet sigh. "I think I knew that."

"And you didn't clue me in?" Arnold said, trying to laugh, but truth be told he wasn't really in a happy mood. "Did Gerald tell you what I'm trying to do?"

"You're trying to find her," Phoebe said. "Yeah, he's worried about you."

"Did he tell you I see her?" Arnold asked, wondering what his supposed best friend has been saying about him.

"Yes," Phoebe said, a hint of nervous energy in her voice.

"Does that bother you?" Arnold asked, feeling the anger bubbling in his throat. If she thought he was crazy, it was Gerald's fault. He wasn't crazy. He wouldn't make this stuff up.

"No," Phoebe surprised him. "If you see her, you see her, whatever that means. I see her sometimes too… out of the corner of my eye, walking down the street."

Arnold didn't have the heart to tell her he saw Helga in a…well… _different_ way. How would she react knowing Arnold saw her dead body on his floor, crying? He left Phoebe finish talking. "I want you to find her, but I know you won't."

Arnold was shocked. She continued. "I hope you are right. I hope she didn't die that way, alone in a street with only strangers to help her. I want you to be right, in my heart. But I know better. As much as I want you to find her, a bigger part of me is saying she's gone and nothing you will do will bring her back. There is nothing for you to find, because she died."

"She didn't die that way," Arnold said defiantly. "I have evidence that she didn't."

"What do you mean?" Phoebe asked.

"I had her ashes tested, don't ask me how," Arnold saw her opening her mouth, the question in her eyes. "Just trust me on this one. I got some of her ashes, took it to a forensics guy, and he told me the ashes were from a goat, not her. I think she's still out there."

Phoebe stood there with her mouth agape, staring at him. He smiled. "At least, that's what my heart thinks. That's what I hope."

Phoebe stared at him for a long time, trying to decide if he was crazy. She searched his eyes for an answer, wondering if she could trust him. "Can I give you something?"

That's not what Arnold was expecting. "Uh…sure?"

"I don't have it now," She said, her voice a mix of nerves and excitement. "But…but I trust you. I know Gerald doesn't, and I know he thinks you are going overboard with this, and I know he thinks you'd be better off letting go… but if you can't trust your heart, then what hope is there for the world?"

Arnold smiled at her sentimentality. "Just tell me where I can meet you and when."

"Tomorrow," Phoebe said. "I have some of her stuff and some emails and papers from her. They might help you."

Arnold froze. She had Helga's things? "Are you serious?"

"She was my best friend, Arnold," She said gravely. "I want nothing more than for her to be in my life again. If you can find her, I want to do anything to help."

"But what about Gerald?" Arnold asked. "He doesn't think she's alive. Wouldn't he be disappointed?"

"What does he know?" She said angrily. "I have faith in you Arnold. Besides, he doesn't need to find out."

* * *

"Woah," Maria said later that night when Arnold told her what happened with Phoebe. "She said that?"

"Yeah," Arnold said, grabbing a fry from the plate they shared at the diner. She was off duty, they were about to close, and the place was empty. The cook had left already and it was just her and the janitor left. "It still feels kind of weird. He's my best friend, but he doesn't trust me. He doesn't want me to pursue this, and I don't know why"

"Do you think they've ever fought over Helga or over you? Over all of this?" Maria asked. He didn't really know the answer to that. He didn't think Phoebe had any faith in Helga being alive before today, so perhaps the argument really was over him. Maybe she was on his side and didn't think he just needed to snap out of it like her husband seemed to think. Everyone had been going through hell since Helga's death; maybe she wanted Gerald to go easier on his best friend.

"I think she recognizes when someone needs help and love," Arnold said after some thought. "Not to bury their feelings."

Maria nodded and in her eyes Arnold saw her past peeking out. "Hit close to home?"

"Like I said," Maria said with a shrug, standing up and taking the empty plate away. "Another story for another day."

"What day might that be?" Arnold asked, following her. She smiled a knowing smile, touching the tip of her finger to her lips like she was keeping a secret, and went to the kitchen. Arnold called after her. "You know, you told me before that if people cared and wanted me to get better they'd listen. You've listened to me, Bliss has, and I'm pretty sure Phoebe will listen to me too. I'm getting better."

Maria's face appeared in the little window where the sink was. Arnold came over and leaned on the frame. "If you trusted me with your story, I'd listen."

She stopped washing and sighed, looking at Arnold. He smiled. "I'd help you get better."

"It's not me that needs to get better," She said sadly. At that moment Arnold heard a soft vibration and the pocket of her apron lit up. She slid it out and read the screen, shaking her head. She angrily threw the phone in her back pocket and ripped her apron off her head, muttering under her breath. "Speak of the devil."

"What's up?" Arnold asked. He had never seen Maria so angry before- it was different. "Need any help?"

She considered his offer for a moment. "Yeah, actually, I could."

They walked to Arnold's car, her shoving her keys and phone in her purse angrily, still muttering in Spanish. He started the engine up and looked over to see her sitting with her elbow on the window sill, fingertips on her forehead, looking menacing. "Turns out you get to hear the story today."

They drove towards downtown into a shadier part of the city. They drove slowly down streets, searching for something. She scanned bar windows, darkened allies, looking for something. They looped the blocks until Maria slapped Arnold on the chest. "Pull over."

She got out of the car and ran over to a lump sitting between two buildings up against a dumpster. Arnold was sure they were looking at garbage bags spilling out into the ally, but Maria reached down and hoisted a person off the ground. She threw his arm over her neck and started dragging, but the man struggled against her. Arnold got out to help her.

"Lemme go," The man slurred, pushing Maria away. He staggered and dropped the paper bag in his hand and the liquor bottle within smashed. "FUCK!"

"Leave it," Maria said when he leaned over to pick up the broken glass. He jerked his arm away from her and fell face first into the ground. He laughed as he swiped his hand across the glass, trying to collect the liquid that was spreading across the cement. He cut his hand open. Maria sighed and hoisted him up again. Arnold took his other side.

"Who's this fucker?" The man asked with a laugh as he wiped his hand on Maria's shoulder, staining her shirt with blood. Maria swore and began lecturing the man in Spanish, to which he shut up. He looked to the ground in shame. Just kidding- he needed to puke.

Maria sighed and put her hand on her forehead, closing her eyes and tilting her head towards the sky. The man collapsed on the curb and continued vomiting in the gutter. She looked to Arnold and shrugged. "This is my story."

After a few minutes, the man puked himself out and fell asleep. Maria pulled napkins out of her purse and wiped his face clean. Then she wrapped his hand and, still holding the bandages to his torn flesh, she and Arnold got him into the back seat of the car. Arnold checked his rear view mirror every now and then as Maria nursed the man back to health. She made eye contact with him, and Arnold looked away.

"Sorry about this," she whispered. "This is what it looks like to lose yourself."

"Who is he?" Arnold asked in a hushed voice.

"This is Eddie," Maria said, looking at the man next to her lovingly. "He is my older brother."


	15. Chapter 15

Arnold pulled up in front of the same apartment building he picked her from many times before. They hoisted Eddie out of the car and dragged his unconscious body to the door. Maria fumbled with her keys then looked at Arnold regretfully. "We live on the third floor."

Arnold looked inside and saw there was a staircase but no elevator. "It's alright, it'll be a good work out."

Maria scoffed and smiled, shaking her head. Arnold wrapped his arms under Eddie's and around his chest and hoisted him up while Maria grabbed her brother's legs behind his knees and together they struggled to get him up the stairs. Maria dropped his legs to get into the apartment. The place was dark and when she turned on the lights Arnold was hit with sadness; it was a dump. There was barely any furniture and the stuff she had was obviously second hand. They dragged Eddie over to a ripped up couch with patches. Maria helped Arnold get him on the sofa then quickly grabbed a piece of fabric that had slid off the floor to cover the tear in the arm of the battered old couch.

"Sorry," She whispered, looking devastated. Her face was to the ground, shamed.

"No," Arnold said. He suddenly felt very awkward. Here was his friend, a girl who was so cheerful and upbeat, totally exposed. She must have felt it too- she stood there awkwardly, not sure what to say, and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Totally exposed.

"Well," She said, rubbing her hands together before putting them in her pockets, only to pull them out again to wrap her arms around herself. She was anxious. "I guess… I guess that's all I really need. You can go if you want."

Arnold scratched his head awkwardly. "Do you want me to leave?"

"Not really," Maria said quietly. She went over to the fridge and pulled out an open bottle of wine and placed it on the table before sitting down. She gestured for him to sit down. She must have seen the discomfort in Arnold's eyes. "I know it's probably in bad taste, given my brother is an alcoholic, but I think I need this right about now."

Arnold sat down across from her, not sure if he should laugh or not, or even if he could laugh. "Does he drink this too?"

"At this point, nothing I do really matters or helps," She poured the crimson liquid into two chipped water glasses. "So I do what helps me."

She held up her glass to cheers Arnold, and he obliged, but not without feeling guilty. "Is this what you needed the money for?"

Maria nodded as she took a deep gulp of wine. "I had to pay to get him out of jail one night. Unruly conduct. It was either get him home or pay rent, and when you asked for my help…well… He's here and we aren't on the street."

"I see how it is," Arnold said with a laugh. "Use me for my money."

Maria laughed too, but it was uncomfortable. Maybe it wasn't funny after all. "Not…I don't mean it like that-"

"I know," Maria said, cutting him off.

"Do you…do you want to talk about it?" Arnold asked.

Maria shrugged. "I'm not really sure what to even say at this point. It's been going on for so long… Our mom died recently."

"I'm so sorry," Arnold said. He knew how she felt.

"It's okay," Maria said. "Well, it's not okay. Not really. She was helping him out a lot. He used to live with her and she kept him off the street, only God knows how she managed that. We never really had a great relationship, Eddie and I. We weren't close growing up, and we aren't now, but he's my responsibility now that she's gone."

"Why?" Arnold asked, frustrated. "Why are his mistakes your problem? Why should you struggle to keep him around?"

"Because he's family," Maria said plainly. "That's what you do. You take care of family."

"Have you tried getting him help? Or talking to him about it?" Arnold asked.

"No," Maria said, rolling her eyes. "I just hand him his beer and let him have at it. Of course I've tried getting help, I've tried everything I can think of! There is nothing I can do for him."

"When did this start?" Arnold asked.

"When…when my father died," Maria's voice was softer now, full of emotion. Arnold watched her wipe tears from her eyes. "My father was a scientist and a professor... he was a brilliant man. He helped people, or at least he tried. He wasn't around much, his work consumed him and he spent so much time in his office, but when he was here he was the best father anyone could have asked for. My brother never saw that. He never realized how much our father did for our family. When he died, we had to move out of our house and into an apartment. My father had saved money for us but my mother hadn't been working. They were saving money for us to go to college…but we never got to go."

Maria was crying openly now and Arnold didn't dare stop her. If she needed to talk, she could talk. "He loved us so much and he was so smart and all I wanted to do was be like him. I wanted to help people and use my knowledge for good, but I never got that chance. Then Eddie… He was so mad at him. Eddie would never forgive my father for spending so much time at work. They fought a lot… Eddie would leave home for a very long time. My father wanted him to understand how important his work was, but Eddie wouldn't listen.

"He got into some bad things, gangs and drugs. He blamed my father for everything wrong in his own life, saying that everything he became was because of dad. But if that were the case, you'd think I'd be fucked up from it too, but I'm not."

"Are you sure?" Arnold asked.

"What do you mean? Of course I'm sure" Maria said, angry. "I am not addicted to drugs, I have a job, I'm doing my best to get by while supporting my dead beat brother. I'm doing what I can, I am stronger than he is."

"That's not really what I meant," Arnold said. "I don't know if you knew, but I don't have parents either."

Maria didn't answer. "They were scientists too, and they left me when I was a baby. I was actually born in South America while they were working in the field, that's how dedicated they were. They left me when I was little to go on a mission one last time, and they never came back. It fucks you up whether you see it or not. It really fucks you up."

"I'm sorry," She said.

"It's okay now," Arnold said, taking a sip of wine. "But for a while, in my life, I was bitter towards them. Mostly when I was in college, trying to figure out who I was and what I wanted to do with my life. I can understand where Eddie is coming from. It's hard to be second fiddle to a job. I never really had to deal with that rejection because my parents only left me once, but it was enough for me to lose them forever. It's hard to grow up without parents to help guide you. Some parents aren't there because they die; some aren't there because they choose not to be there. It sounds like, just like my parents, your father chose not to be there."

"Arnold," Maria said, reaching across the table and taking his hand. "Your parents didn't choose that."

"Then why aren't they here?" Arnold asked, pulling his hand away. "They could have stayed, they didn't."

"I guarantee they didn't want to," Maria said. "I know they wanted to stay. I know that, if they had returned from that trip, they would have never done it again."

"It only takes one time," Arnold said bitterly. He took another sip of wine and laughed coldly. "See? It fucks you up. I'm still angry about it. Less so, but every now and then that feeling will sneak up on me. Your father dying changed your life. If he never died, if he came home from work more, perhaps you would be someplace else."

Maria looked around her apartment with sad, critical eyes, looking at every broken piece of furniture and every crack in the wall and dent in the floor. "You're probably right. But either way, this is what I have to live with now, and nothing will change that."

"You never know," Arnold said, raising his eyebrows. He raised his glass. "To the future? Whatever it may hold and however it might change us."

"To the future," Maria said, clinking her glass with his. "In the hopes that, despite the past, there is something bright to look forward to."

* * *

 _"Something to look forward to,"_ Arnold thought to himself as he drove home in the dark. Did he have something to look forward to? Or was he delaying the obvious? He couldn't help but think about his parents disappearance and how much it hurt him. The day he accepted they would never return was a day he changed. He wasn't as happy as before. He remembered it as the day he grew up. The world wasn't a hopeful place and, frankly, it shits on you.

So why was he so hopeful for Helga?

He trudged up the steps to his apartment, his feet weighing fifty pounds each. His roller coaster of emotions throughout the day had drained him. As he slid his key into the lock, he whispered to himself "just one day at a time."

Once inside, he felt a pang of sadness; his apartment was clean, well put together, and he had nice furniture. He thought of Maria going to sleep in her own apartment and sighed. He needed a deep, forgetful sleep.

He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking. He turned and looked at the little orange bottle on his bedside table. Would he risk another nightmare for the chance of deep sleep?

As soon as the pill slid down his throat, the door to his bedroom opened and Helga came walking in.

Arnold smiled "I'm not really surprised you're here."

She came forward and threw herself onto his bed, lying on her stomach. She propped her face up on her hands, narrowing her eyes and smirking at him in the sly way she used to when she was alive. She had a tank top on and cloth shorts, her go-to outfit when they would spend hours lazing around her apartment.

"I would offer you something to eat," Arnold said with a sigh, leaning back on his elbows. "But I don't think I have anything you'd like."

Helga shrugged and extended her arms in front of her, stretching and rolled onto her back, folding her hands across her stomach. Arnold felt his stomach clench. He laughed and ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I can't believe what I'm about to say…but you're really hot."

Helga had her eyes closed but she smiled wide, but said nothing. Arnold continued. "I don't know why I never said it out loud before. I…I just didn't know. I didn't have a word for how I felt about you, but I do now. I know now."

Helga had opened her eyes again, sitting up on her knees and looking Arnold intensely in the eyes. She was listening to him.

"I… we spent so much time together, I don't know how I couldn't see," Arnold said, staring back. She waited patiently. "Sometimes it's hard to see what's right in front of you. Sometimes it's hard to trust your heart when you've been hurt, I guess."

Arnold thought about his lost parents. "It's hard to say you love someone when you're not sure if you're even capable."

Helga reached out, her ghost-white hand hovering over Arnold's knee, still staring. Arnold noticed she was getting paler as time passed. Was she leaving?

"I miss you," Arnold whispered. He was frustrated with himself for having tears burning his throat; he seemed to cry all the time now. "I want to find you so I can tell you I love you. I love you."

Helga smiled and closed her eyes, tears spilling from her closed lids. She looked so blissfully happy, like she had been waiting to hear those words her entire life. What was he thinking? She _was_ waiting her entire life to hear those words. According to Phoebe, she had always loved him.

When she opened her eyes, dark circles began blooming around them. Bruises passed over her nose and blood trickled from her hairline. She began losing weight so rapidly in front of his eyes, Arnold thought she was melting. He frantically, desperately, tried to grab her hand. He passed through her, leaving a cold sensation seeping into his flesh. "I hate this. Don't do this. Stay here. I don't want to watch you die."

Helga shook her head, watching in misery as Arnold tried to touch her. Arnold tried to touch her hair, her face, her knees, her hands, anything. When he couldn't, he twisted his fists in his hair, feeling as though his anger and sadness could rip him in half. He had to do something.

"If you're alive, if you can hear me, do one thing for me," Arnold yelled as she sat in front of him in tears. "Fight! Stay alive! Whatever is happening, wherever you are, I'll find you, but you have to fight! Help me find you!"

Helga stopped moving, stopped crying, and looked down. Her hair fell in front of her face and Arnold crouched low on the bed, trying to see her face. Suddenly, she looked up with a strangling gasp and stared at him with the cold, lifeless eyes that terrified him in the Pataki's house, startling Arnold so badly he fell back onto the bed, scrambling backwards away from her. She opened her cracked and bleeding lips. "Find me."

"I will," Arnold said, his voice a hoarse whisper now. The fear from that night gripped him as he twisted the sheets in his fists. "Promise me you'll fight. Promise me."

She stared, saying nothing. Arnold was mad. "Promise me!"

She stood up, walking into the middle of his bedroom before turning and facing him, still saying nothing. "PROMISE ME!"

"I promise."

Arnold's heart stopped.

Moments later, Helga's feet were pulled out from under her and she fell forward to the floor with an ear-splitting scream. With her hands clawing frantically into the floor, she was dragged backwards by her legs into the wall and disappeared.


	16. Chapter 16

Arnold bolted awake, his bed drenched in sweat and his body shaking uncontrollably. He jerked his gaze to the window and was shocked to see it was already morning and daylight was spilling into his room. He groaned, rubbing his face; it felt like only moments ago that he even took the pill.

"I don't know why I do that," he grumbled. He drew his knees up towards his body and stared at the sun, his mind racing. She had spoken to him. She promised him she would fight and…and…

Arnold swung his feet over the side of his bed and his heart stopped momentarily before he realized the long lines across his hardwood floor were, in fact, just lines of sun pouring through the blinds and not scratches from Helga's nails. He shook his head in frustration before yanking the curtains wide open, flooding the room with sunlight, and getting dressed.

He walked angrily down the road, hands shoved firmly in his coat pockets as usual. He debated where he wanted to go first- should he go see Phoebe? Or should he go to Dr. Bliss? Or…what? He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed his doctors' cell.

"Hello?" Dr. Bliss answered.

"Are you in the office today?" Arnold asked without greeting her.

He heard her sigh deeply, realizing who was on the other end. "I'm not, but I can be. Where are you?"

"Walking towards your building," Arnold replied.

"Be there in fifteen minutes," she said before hanging up the phone. Maybe she could sense Arnold's mood. Maybe she could tell he was about to burst from anger and pain. Why else would she agree to easily to see a man that previously burst into her office with no warning and scared the shit out of her patients?

When Arnold arrived at the building, he was surprised to find the receptionist was not there. Instead, there was a hulking African American man sitting there, shaking his head at his computer screen. He looked up when he saw Arnold walking in. "Morning, sir. Where are you headed today?"

"Seventh floor," that was all the explanation he needed and nodded his head at Arnold before going back to the screen. Arnold was about to walk away, but he stopped. "Are you here on the weekends?"

"Yeah," The man replied. "This is when I fix everything Becky messed up all week."

Arnold laughed before heading over to the elevators. Becky, huh?

He got to the office and saw that it was locked. It's never locked. He couldn't even get into the waiting room, so instead he leaned on the wall and slid to the floor, sitting with his legs splayed out in front of him like a drunk on the sidewalk. He thought about Eddy.

"Hey, Arnold," Dr. Bliss said. He looked down the hall to see her hurrying towards him, eyes down, keys in hand to unlock the door. He stood silently and followed her into her office. As soon as she sat down, she took one look at him and sighed. "Oh, Arnold. What happened?"

"I took one of those pills again," Arnold said quietly. "Last time I dreamed of her in the dress. This time I heard her."

"She's spoken to you before, correct?" Bliss asked.

"Yeah, but this time she responded to me."

Dr. Bliss didn't say anything. "She was in my room and she was acting like her old self. She was wearing her pj's the way she used to when we would hang out at her place. Then she stared at me and I told her I loved her and she smiled and tears rolled down her face and she looked so happy. Then she started to go pale, bruises started forming on her face, and her nose began to bleed. It was so…frustrating. I couldn't touch her or help her or anything! Then she gasped and asked me to find her, so I asked her to stay alive so I could."

"What happened next?" Bliss asked quietly when Arnold paused.

"She…she stood up and," This was harder than Arnold had anticipated. "I was yelling. I yelled at her to promise. I wanted her to promise to fight so I could find her. And she looked at me and said 'I promise.' And then…"

Arnold rubbed his face in his hands as he thought about what happened to her next; how do you put something like that into words? You just fucking go for it, I guess.

"And then she fell to the floor, screamed this horrible, painful scream, and was dragged backward through my wall."

Bliss didn't say anything, but just stared at Arnold, who shrugged and looked out the window. He pulled his feet up onto the chair, tucking one under his leg, propping his arm on his bent knee. "I know, crazy right?"

"Arnold, don't joke around right now, okay?" Bliss said. "I know it's one of your many coping mechanisms, but for just this one time, I want you to just try to keep this serious."

"I am keeping this serious," Arnold said angrily. "You don't think I know this is serious? I cry every fucking day it seems because of the visions I see of her. Let me have a little humor once and a while. It's not like my life is full of laughter right now as it is."

Bliss relented. "Okay. So what do you think about this dream?"

"When I first woke up I was terrified. I even thought I saw her fingernail marks on the floor," Arnold explained. "Then after a while, I just felt angry."

"Why?" Bliss asked.

"I hate getting my hopes up like that, I guess. I almost wish I didn't believe she was alive. I wish I could think about the fact I might never find her or I might find her dead and not feel like dying myself. I sometimes think that when I finally get to the bottom of this, I won't have her. I'll have the true story of how she died. I'll know exactly what happened to her, but I won't have her any more. She will become a memory. I'll have her whole story, I'll know everything about her by the end of this, but she will be dead and gone and I won't have her…Is all of this worth the pain? Is it easier to just accept her as a memory now?"

"That's part of the healing process, Arnold," Dr. Bliss said with compassion. "The fact you're feeling this way- frustrated with yourself for being hopeful she's still alive, questioning what you are doing and why you are doing it- that's the first step in accepting she might not be. Do you think maybe you do realize she could be dead? That that is a real possibility?"

"Of course I know it's a real possibility," Arnold replied. "I feel like we aren't getting anywhere, here, Bliss. I know she could be dead, but I don't fully believe it. I know I should move on, but I'm not. I know most people would have accepted her death, but I don't. Every time I try to convince myself she's dead and I need to move on, a part of my brain perks up.

"What do you mean perks up?" Bliss asked.

"It's like all of me wants to say she's dead. …"

"But?" Bliss pressed.

"But in the back of my mind, there's a small part of me that can't accept that," Arnold whispered. "My dreams, my visions, they all show me a dead girl who wants her story told. And yet every single time, every god damn moment she's with me, she gives me a little bit of hope that she's still out there waiting for me. She promises to fight for me, but gets dragged away. She leads me to the roof in her gown, then disappears and leads me to the edge to jump. What does it mean?"

Bliss sat quietly, elbows on her desk, hands folded and pressed to her lips. She was struggling. "Arnold… you get the most vivid dreams when you've taken the sleeping pills, correct?"

"Yeah," Arnold said with skepticism. Where was she going with this?

"Maybe…" Bliss sighed. "Maybe you are hallucinating."

"Well I thought that was pretty obvious," Arnold scoffed. "Isn't that what all dreams are? Vivid hallucinations?"

"What if you stopped taking the pills?" Bliss suggested. "Would that help you face reality?"

Arnold wanted to yell. He wanted to storm out of the office, incredulous that she would even suggest it. Was she accusing him of being an addict? Was she saying he's making it all up? He had her support one day, then the next she's implying he's some cracked out druggie who is making this all up in his head?

 _No,_ Arnold thought to himself. _That's not what she's doing._ He took a deep breath and thought long and hard before he answered her.

"I think," Arnold began slowly. "You could be right."

Bliss sighed but Arnold put up a hand, signaling he wasn't done. "However, you could also be wrong. If I stopped taking the pills, I wouldn't see her as much, but I don't think the pills are showing me a false reality. If that was the case, I wouldn't have been hearing her or seeing her before I even came to you, would I?"

"Perhaps not," Bliss said.

"I've been seeing her for months now, and I've been hearing her for years, and-," Arnold said

"Wait, I'm sorry," Bliss cut him off, her hands up, a confused look on her face. "What?"

"I never told you that?" Arnold asked, perplexed.

"I think I would have remembered you mentioning something like that." She replied.

Arnold sighed, feeling sheepish. He scratched the back of his head, willing himself not to blush. "I…ever since we were little, I would hear her voice sometimes. No one else believed me. But she would say my name and I would hear it."

Bliss sat in shock. Arnold felt self-conscious. "What…what? Is that weird?"

"It's a strange connection to have, I must say," Bliss whispered.

"We've always had it," Arnold said, looking out the window. "Which is why I don't think the pills are a problem. It's the same reason why I think she's alive still. If I can still see her, if I can still hear her… maybe she's still out there saying my name the way she used to."

Bliss sat quietly at her desk for a long, long time. Arnold didn't care; he was fixated with the clouds drifting lazily across the sky. He was coming to clarity. His nightmares weren't showing him her death, the pills were just opening his mind to her. They had a connection before, they always had. Maybe now…maybe now she was trying harder than ever to reach him. Maybe now he was finally listening to her.

He snapped his gaze back to Dr. Bliss. "Can I say something?"

Bliss looked over at him and he continued. "I want…I want to thank you."

"What?" Dr. Bliss said, astonishment in her voice.

"Yeah," Arnold said with a little laugh. "I can be nice still, I haven't lost that part of me. It just got buried under this ass-hole thing I've got going on. I think coming to see you really has helped. I haven't given up on her being alive, obviously, but it's nice to have someone to talk to about it who knew her as well as I did. Pretty much all of my friends don't believe me, and the only people who do didn't know her like you and I did. That is, except Phoebe."

Arnold's stomach dropped while his heart simultaneously jumped into his throat. Phoebe! They were going to meet today! She had some of Helga's stuff to show him! Holy shit!

Arnold leapt from his seat like he had been burned. "Oh my god, I completely forgot."

"What?" Dr. Bliss asked again. She seemed to be in total shock; weather from Arnold's confession of the weird mental connection with Helga or from his heartfelt thank you, who knows.

"I forgot I'm meeting a friend today," Arnold said, throwing his jacket on. "She has something to show me. Stuff that was Helga's. Anyway, thank you again. When can I come back to talk to you?"

"Um," Dr. Bliss stood and knocked a stack of papers onto the floor. Arnold looked at her, concerned. She seemed dazed and out of it.

"Are you okay?" Arnold asked, concerned.

"Yes," Dr. Bliss said, picking the papers up haphazardly. "Next time we meet, can it be somewhere else?"

"Somewhere…?" Arnold asked, but she wasn't really paying attention to him. It looked like she was thinking hard about something. Arnold could see the thoughts reeling behind her eyes. "Sure, anywhere, just give me a call."

"Right," Bliss said, her voice airy like her mind was someplace else. She shook her head and got it together. "Right. I'll call you and let you know where to meet me in the next few days, is that alright?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Arnold said, heading for the door. "After all, I don't really have a life anyway."

Arnold laughed as he left, happy to see Dr. Bliss shaking her head at him, rolling her eyes.


	17. Chapter 17

Arnold raced down the stairs, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket as he flew and dialing his friend. "Phoebe? It's Arnold. Is it okay if we meet?"

"Yes, Gerald isn't home," Phoebe said. "How far away are you?"

"I can be there in ten minutes."

"Perfect, I'll be ready," and with that Phoebe hung up the phone.

Arnold walked quickly down the road, his breath billowing out in a foggy cloud before him as his heart rate climbed. He wanted to be there as soon as possible, he could barely stop himself from running. He would ride this emotional high as long as he could. He never left Bliss's office feeling so good before. Her shock at their connection only fueled his belief that she was alive. Now the question was how he would find her.

In a matter of minutes he was in front of Phoebe and Gerald's apartment complex. He buzzed their unit and the door clicked. He swung it open and climbed the stairs two at a time. When Phoebe met him at the door, he was winded but smiling.

"What happened to you?" She asked with a laugh, looking him up and down. "I haven't seen you smiling like that in ages."

"Just renewed confidence, I guess," Arnold said with a shrug. Phoebe stepped back, holding her arm out and gesturing him inside. He slid off his coat and hung it up, following her towards the bedroom.

"I've been storing her things in here," Phoebe said, gesturing to a cedar chest sitting at the foot of their bed. She pulled a small golden key out of her jewelry box and unlocked it, the sweet smell of wood greeting them as the lid opened. "Gerald never really goes in here, he has no need. I don't know how he would feel about me keeping all of this stuff."

"Can I ask you something?" Arnold asked. He was feeling bold. Phoebe nodded. "Does it ever bother you that he wants so badly to put Helga in the past? Why is he trying so hard to forget her, to put her away and never think about her again?"

Phoebe sighed and thought for a long time. "Honestly? I think he's conflicted about her in general. She was my best friend, so she took away time from him. He never really liked her that much when we were kids; he thought she treated me poorly, and perhaps she did, but she grew up just like the rest of us. She was a major person in my life and we spent a lot of time together. Remember when she was my maid of honor?"

Arnold did remember. He had been the best man.

 _"It's kind of weird, isn't it?"_

 _"What?" Arnold asked, looking over at Helga. She was standing, arms crossed, leaning up against a pillar with a distant smile on her face. They had gone up to the balcony in the back of the church to check out where the three piece orchestra would sit during the ceremony. "How lavish this thing is going to be?"_

 _"Well yeah, don't even get me started on that," Helga said, rolling her eyes. "But would you expect any less with Ms. Rhonda Wellington Lloyd as your wedding planner?"_

 _Arnold laughed. "If they have the money, who cares how they spend it I guess."_

 _"I suppose," Helga said with a hit of frustration in her voice. It was no secret she thought weddings were hyped-up-attention-seeking-self-centered princess parties for those who wanted to show off how in love they are (her exact words), but she held her tongue around her best friend. "But that's not the only thing that's weird."_

 _She had moved forward, leaning with her elbows propped on the velvet-lined railing and staring at the happy couple up at the altar, reciting in hushed voices their vows with warm smiles on their faces. "It's weird that any of this is happening at all."_

 _"You mean Gerald and Phoebe getting married?" Arnold asked, mirroring her and leaning over the edge. "I mean, we all saw this coming from a mile away. They've been together since the beginning of time."_

 _"Growing up is a weird thing, Shortman," Helga sighed. Arnold scowled at her but she didn't see. "One day you're bossing everyone around at school, the next you're watching your best friend get married. Time flies."_

 _"Yeah, I guess so," Arnold said. "Although I didn't really do much bossing around back in the day."_

 _"Shut up," Helga said, shoving him. "You know what I mean."_

 _Arnold laughed. Just then his phone buzzed. He checked his screen and saw Helga peeking over as well. "Your girl texting you or something?"_

 _"Hardly," Arnold said, shoving his phone back in his pocket. "Just Wolfgang asking when we'd be wrapping up over here."_

 _"Typical," Helga said with a laugh. She suddenly got very awkward, scuffing her feet across the floor and twisting her fingers together. "So…do you…ever think about this?"_

 _"About what?" Arnold asked. He stood up and turned around to face her, leaning on the railing._

 _"You know," Helga said, standing up and wrapping her arms around herself in her protective way. "Marriage."_

 _She rolled her eyes and said the word in a sing-song voice, clearly displaying her distain with the whole institution. Arnold shrugged. "I don't know, it hasn't really ever crossed my mind. Not yet anyway. I mean, I guess some day it'll happen."_

 _"You don't know that for sure," Helga said defensively. "Who's to say anyone would want to marry you?"_

 _"Aren't you just a ray of sunshine," Arnold said. "I didn't realize I was so appalling."_

 _"Well you're in good company," Helga said with a laugh._

 _Arnold didn't laugh. "What do you mean? You're not appalling."_

 _Helga smiled and muttered a thanks, her cheeks red. Arnold shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ceiling while she turned and examined the pipe organ behind her. Eventually they were called down and told everything was set for the next day. The wedding couldn't have gone smoother. Phoebe (and Gerald) cried, the party was a blast, and no one could resist the dance floor once they had a couple of drinks in their systems._

 _"Hey football head!" Helga's voice came towards him from across the dance floor. Arnold had been dancing with a random friend of Phoebe's from work. He looked up to see her smiling wide, face flushed, her hand outstretched to him. He left the girl he was dancing with and headed over to Helga. He stumbled into her and she caught him with a laugh. "You're dancing partner looks pissed."_

 _Arnold looked back to see the girl scowling, arms crossed. He suppressed a laugh. "She doesn't even know my name; she won't remember me, who cares?"_

 _Helga laughed and they pushed their way to the middle of the dance floor together. The room was dark but the colored disco lights flashed brightly around them making everything technicolor. They danced together, bodies pressed close. The alcohol in his system made him bold and the thumping music matched his heartbeat. "You look great!"_

 _"You too!" Helga yelled back to him. Without thinking, without warning, she leaned forward and kissed him. It wasn't anything…weird…just a peck on the lips before she went back to dancing, head swaying and eyes closed. It meant nothing, but it stopped Arnold in his tracks. He looked over to see Gerald looking right at them._

"I think Gerald was always a little jealous of how much attention I gave her," Phoebe's musings brought Arnold back. "He doesn't like to share me, or you for that matter."

"Me?" Arnold said, his heart dropping. Did she know what he had been thinking about? "When has he ever had to share me? He's been my best friend for life. If anything, I've had to share him with you."

"Ha ha," Phoebe said, pushing him lightly. "You know what I mean. You and Helga got close…near the end."

"Don't say that," Arnold said. Phoebe looked puzzled. "Don't say near the end. It's not the end. Not yet. You've got to have faith. I know it's hard, and I know it's not the most likely circumstance, but she's alive. I can feel it."

Phoebe smiled a sad, sympathetic smile. For a moment, Arnold doubted her belief in him. "If I didn't have a little faith, I wouldn't be showing you these things."

Arnold sighed as she pulled out the boxes of papers, photographs, books, everything. A certain small journal caught his eye. He slid a shoebox out of the way and pulled a small pink book out from under a pile of papers. "What is this?"

"That was hers," Phoebe said, knowing exactly what he was looking at. "You never guessed in middle school, but it was hers."

Arnold riffed through the pages of the old notebook he had once found with Gerald. They had compared handwriting in the yearbook, checked locks of hair, compared pencil bite marks, and even tried to use Arnold's pet pig to track the girl down. He even laughed at the suggestion that it could ever belong to Helga. He felt foolish now.

"These are amazing," Arnold said after pouring over her multitude of poems. "She was born to write."

"Believe it or not, this is only some of her work," Phoebe said, gently piling the papers back into their boxes. "She had volumes of work. Of course I saved everything she had published. Even if it was just in the school paper or on the college webpage, I wanted to remember."

"You know, everyone said I knew Helga well," Arnold said, rubbing his forehead. "But I disagree. I never knew about her writing. I never knew about her work at EARTH, I never read anything she published after she left… God, the only reason I knew she was a journalist at all was because she came to interview me. How self-absorbed can you get?"

"You're learning now," Phoebe said. Arnold felt her hand on his knee. "You're learning."

Arnold nodded and put his hand on hers. He hung out with her, they had their moments, but he never asked much about her life. She never asked much about his either. They were just friends who enjoyed each other's company. They went to each other for help and guidance, went to each other for an escape, for laughter, and for fun. Knowing more about her then would have made it…something else.

"I think I was afraid before," Arnold said suddenly as he looked though photos- Helga laughing and hugging Phoebe around the shoulders, sitting on the beach and flashing a big smile along with a peace sign. She was beautiful. "Getting to know her made the relationship change. If we were coworkers who hung out after work, that was one thing. If we were two people who knew each other backwards and forwards, every like and dislike and every scrap of personal history, that was too close to a real relationship."

"Can I ask you something, now?" Phoebe asked. Arnold looked up from the photos and saw her staring at him. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" Arnold asked, but his gut twisted in anticipation. He knew what she was talking about.

"What did you fight about?" Phoebe asked. "Why did everything change all of a sudden?"

"I don't want to talk about that," Arnold said, looking down at the papers in his lap. He felt his walls going up again. He felt himself sinking down into the darkness he so briefly pulled himself out of. He was getting sad again. Why couldn't they just look at the photos and be happy? Why couldn't they just look at the memories and get away from reality for just a moment?

Because that wouldn't find Helga. Photos and memories couldn't save her. The more time they spent doing this, the less time he spent looking for her. It was back to business.

Phoebe pulled herself up on her knees, dropping the subject, and began pushing through boxes to find what she was looking for. She pulled a heavy shoe box out onto her lap and placed her hands on top, staring at Arnold. "In this box is some very important information I think you need."

"What is it?" Arnold asked, not daring to take it from her.

"It's the emails we shared when she was working for EARTH," Phoebe stated matter-of-factly. Arnold's palms began to sweat. "It's what we talked about when she started getting involved with her latest project. The one that sent her to Brazil."

Arnold felt light headed. Phoebe continued. "These are the last conversations we had before she went missing, before she was declared dead."


	18. Chapter 18

Arnold sat on his bedroom floor, staring at the box sitting across from him. Pandora's box stared back at him, willing him to open it and unleash the demons. What he would find in there would change everything. The goat ashes were one thing, but this? These were her words. The ashes proved she was still missing, but these emails would open up a whole new world of details that would shed more light on the situation than any other clue he had found so far.

He reached out and slid the box towards him, gently lifted the lid, and began reading.

 _"Hey Phoebe!"_ Arnold's fingers trembled as he read the first email Phoebe sent. _"Before you get on my case, before you start wondering why the hell I'm sending you an email instead of calling you, just go with me on this. You know I like to write, I can get more out this way. Plus, it's like you're my own personal diary this way. It's weird, but I don't care, just deal with me a little more okay? I interviewed Arnold today at the police station. I had no idea he even worked there, we haven't talked in so long. He seemed so happy, Pheebs, you have no idea. He makes me want to do more for my neighborhood. His passion is infectious. I wish I could feel that way about work sometimes; puff pieces with the occasional person of interest piece just don't cut it. I was a great hall monitor, who knows, maybe I'd be a good cop?"_

Arnold laughed, remembering Helga's week-long dictatorship in the fourth grade where she ruled with an iron fist. Of course she'd think she was a great hall monitor; her confidence made him smile. He picked up the next email and his heart jolted.

 _"Phoebe, I'm lost. It's like everything came rushing back. I thought I was over all of that, but I was wrong. I was so wrong, it's laughable. I wish I had never seen him. I wish I could have interviewed anyone- literally ANYONE- else at that stupid station, but I didn't. It was him. I haven't had heartache like this in a long, long time. It was bound to happen, we were meant to run into each other what with you dating Gerald, but my God this caught me off guard. I don't think I can be a cop if it means being near him. I wish this had never happened… No…no that's not quite right… I wish we never got to this point. I wish we never lost touch. I wish we could have stayed close, like we were in high school, but we didn't. I wish things could have gone farther, I wish he would have just loved me, but he didn't. Now I have to relive all that pain again? Is this stupid? Should I even be doing this?"_

Arnold put the letter aside, feeling guilty. He felt weird, sifting through private conversations that were never meant for him. He didn't like knowing the pain he had caused her. He pressed on.

 _"I don't care,"_ Helga had started her next email. Clearly, she and Phoebe were in the middle of an argument. _"I don't care if you think we are getting too close, I don't care if it hurts, the pain is worth having him around. I love going to his apartment to study. I love when he helps me out. Training at the academy helps, believe me. A physical outlet helps me get all the frustration out. The harder I hurt, the harder I run, the harder I work, the better I do. Everything will be okay, you'll see, it will be find. It's worth it, Pheebs. I've never been happier. I have my friend back, but ten-fold. I know I always have you, but let's be honest here: it's not the same between you and I. You have Gerald, you are engaged, you live together, and what do I have? You and I hang out and then you go home to him, and where do I go? I'm alone. It's better this way. I know you don't believe me, but it is. I have someone else to talk to when you're with him. It's going to be okay, I promise."_

 _"I don't know, Phoebe",_ Arnold read, Helga's voice ringing through. There was a wide gap between the last email and this one. Had they stopped talking? Had Phoebe left some out on purpose? Based on the subject line, Helga must have been working at the station for a while when she wrote this email. She was changing. _"When I started this, it felt like the right thing to do for more reasons than one. Writing for the daily news wasn't getting me anywhere. I wanted to make a different; I wanted to change the way our world worked. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled with AASP. Honestly, it reminds me of when we were young. These kids aren't off doing drugs or getting into trouble. They are coming to us and finding safe places to just play baseball or throw a Frisbee. They have quiet space to do their homework together, a place to talk to friends. We had endless opportunities when we were young, and I'm glad we get to provide these kids with something positive. But at the same time, I can't help but wonder, is it enough?"_

 _"Hey Pheebs,"_ Another email between friends. " _I saw the wedding photos, you guys look fantastic. Could there be a better couple? I know, I know, you're probably sitting over there with that sad look on your face feeling sorry for me, but don't worry- I'm doing just fine. Don't get me wrong, I still think we'd be a fantastic couple and we'd give you a run for your money, but if it's not meant to be, it's not meant to be. I just wish I could figure him out. One day I think maybe something will happen, the next, nada. Sometimes being just friends is hard, but it's better than nothing right? I used to think that all the time when we were kids. If I could just get him to like me as a person, I'd be one step closer to my dream. Well, it seems like he's always just a little bit out of reach, just a little bit too far. Oh well. I know you think we spend too much time together, and I know you think he's never going to come around, but I gotta tell you Pheebs, I couldn't ask for anything better. Any other guy would be settling, and I'm willing to put up with a little heart ache to see him. I know you are tired of this conversation, and I am too. Don't be angry with me. I hope you understand."_

"God damn it," Arnold said, tossing the letter and putting his hands over his eyes in frustrated pain. She was too good for him. It was hard to press on.

 _"Phoebe, have you ever heard of EARTH?_ " Arnold read. " _Remember how I said I wanted to do more? I think I might have found the way. I included the link, you should check it out. Seriously, it's pretty much exactly what I need. It's one thing to help kids here, but what does it all matter if we aren't setting these kids up for a better future? We could give them all the tools in the world to make their days better now, but what are we doing for the future? Nothing. We are wasting our planet and what good will it do anyone if we have used up our natural resources? Also, how often do we think about people in other countries other than our own? How often do you watch the news and see something terrible happening and feel like there's nothing you can do? EARTH offers you a way to help. You can get out there. You can get your hands dirty and make a real impact. I'm sending in my application today along with my portfolio of writing. I hope they like my style, I'd love to be a reporter for them. I think I could really do some good there."_

Arnold set the email down, feeling guilty. She had mentioned EARTH a few times when they were hanging out, but he brushed it off. He figured she was just caught up in a fad. After all, her own father was a huge proponent of big business and moving the economy forward, regardless of environmental consequences. What good could she have done writing for a magazine? Isn't that why she quit writing for the paper and started working on the force? Real life change was needed here in Hillwood, so why couldn't that be enough?

He remembered so vividly how he tried to sway her away from the whole idea of it. He had acted out of self-interest. She was one of his partners, after all. She helped start their program. He had even trained her for a brief period of time! He didn't like the change, and as far as he was concerned, this was a bad change.

"Well," Arnold said out loud, looking up. A vision of Helga sat across the floor, leaning up against the wall. "I wasn't completely wrong."

She had her knees up and her arms resting on them, her head lolled to one side, asleep. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes. She breathed deeply. Arnold watched her for a moment. "I know you felt like you had something to prove. I know you wanted to make a change, but I still wish you never had left. If you had stayed, you would have been safe."

Helga didn't move; she slept on. Arnold sighed, "Safe, sure, but at what cost?"

What would she have given up for him? If she stayed, would she have been happy with her life? She couldn't count on him returning her feelings. She wanted to make a change, and by the looks of the articles Phoebe had given him, she sure and shit did.

Big businesses caught in the act of polluting water ways, exposed by Helga G. Pataki. Exposing car manufactures for exceeding environmental standards. Interviewing locals in small villages, getting the first-hand accounts of what first world greed looks like to a third world family with photos to boot. Pictures of forests destroyed for money. Animals burnt and wounded wandering their destroyed homes looking for salvation. Children sweating, their eyes deep with sorrow from a life wasted surrounded by clothing with our favorite logos printed across the chest. Her words were powerful, moving, and inspirational. She was a natural debater, a natural protester. She could rally people to fight for a cause and she did it well.

It didn't surprise him to find a couple of articles about the renegade environmental activist that weren't so nice. There were articles condemning her, challenging her, even threatening her. She had acquired a few enemies that was for sure. How could she not? She threw so many businesses under the bus. She cost them millions of dollars in repairs, staff changes, and equipment. According to the New Yorker, she also played a pretty big role in causing some companies to fold. If they couldn't keep up with environmental demands and Helga found them? They were toast.

Tucked away in the articles were more emails. Arnold read, and with tears in his eyes, he watched the relationship between him and Helga crumble from her point of view.

 _"Well, I did what you said,"_ she wrote. _"I told him I applied. He wasn't very pleased with that. He thought it was a joke at first. He couldn't believe I wanted to leave. He kept telling me how well I was doing here and how much change I could make here, oh God Phoebe it was so hard. But you know? It felt like he really wanted me to stay there. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, though. No one likes change, even if it's for the better. Maybe you were right all along. Maybe I should have moved away when it became clear he didn't love me. Perhaps I waited too long, perhaps it will hurt more than ever, but I'm ready to start letting go. I hope if I get the job EARTH sends me far, far away where I can heal in peace."_

 _"I got the job! I got the job."_ The two sentence email hit hard, like two quick jabs from a professional boxer. Joy, happiness, pride, and a sense of achievement powered through and yet her words were laced with sadness, trepidation, worry, and pain. A true artist, a master of words, she could convey so much with one simple sentence.

 _"I have made a horrible, horrible mistake,"_ Arnold felt his chest tighten. He knew what this was about. He knew this was the last time he talked to her. _"We had a fight and I said things I shouldn't have said. I just ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. I lost him forever, nothing I do will fix this. I can't believe I did this. I'm going away, I'm going to Brazil for an article. It's been in the works for a while now, I just didn't know how to tell anyone. I didn't know how to tell Arnold I'd be leaving, and I couldn't tell him why."_

"What?" Arnold whispered. He knew why she went to Brazil. She was looking at the water quality of the Rio Paraguay and the effects on the rural villages. He knew her project. He turned the pages over, trying to figure out what she meant. He looked over at the sleeping Helga against his wall. "Why did you leave?"

 _"Maybe it's better this way,"_ Arnold read on. _"Maybe sometimes you need to burn bridges. Maybe that's how you get end things. Work has given me the distance, and my incredible fuck-up will provide the closure. I think it's over for good this time, Phoebe, and it breaks my heart. I have never felt pain like this. I feel like a fist has taken hold of my heart and will never let go. I'm almost glad I'm leaving tomorrow. Throwing myself into work is the only way I will survive this. I will never forgive myself. Could you call me tonight? I don't think I want to be alone."_

 _"Phoebe,"_ Arnold held the last email, hoping she had more to say about her trip. _"I just wanted to let you know I won't be able to write for a while. I got a call from my office today; they think my computer may have been hacked. They can't risk me losing my notes to a competitor, so contact to the outside world has been limited. Also, I'm not really sure why, but they want me to dye my hair brown again. Just when it was starting to get back to normal too…oh well. I'm sure they just want me to blend in better. There's nothing weirder than a girl with long yellow hair in a sea of brown. I'll write again as soon as possible. I love you._

"No," Arnold said, flipping the pages. There was nothing! Nothing about what she was doing down there, the real reason she left! "Fuck!"

He looked over at Helga again, this time angry. He crawled across the floor and sat in front of her. "Why?"

She didn't move. Arnold tried again, this time speaking louder. "Why?!"

She remained asleep. Arnold rolled his eyes. "So you listen to me the other night, but not now? Not when I need to ask you something? Great, that's just wonderful."

He crossed his arms and sat up against the wall next to her, glaring sideways at her. "When you wake up, we have a lot to talk about, I hope you know that. I know you can hear me. I know it."

Arnold stared at her for a long time, just watching her sleep. Her chest rose and fell softly with each breath. Her hair fell like a blonde waterfall over the side of her arm; the dark brown pigments had finally faded. He felt his expression soften as he watched her sleep. She had fallen asleep at his apartment so many times, curled up on the couch after a movie or when they stayed up just a little too late studying. Why hadn't he looked at her like this before? He cursed himself, thinking of all the lost time.

He sighed, letting his head roll backwards, his face tilted upwards towards the ceiling. His breathing matched hers. She had to dye her hair again…she had to stop emailing… based on the date printed on the top of the email, this was the last one she sent before her accident two weeks later. That couldn't be a coincidence. Someone knew she was in trouble. Someone tried to protect her. Or hurt her…

Arnold woke up to the scream of his telephone ringing on the bedside table. His eyes snapped open and he gasped, sun filling his room. He rubbed his eyes, confused. When had he fallen asleep? He looked over and saw Helga had vanished. He heard his phone vibrate off the table and clatter to the floor. He crawled over to it.

"Hello?" He mumbled, pulling himself up off the floor. His knees ached, he was getting too old for this.

"Arnold?" Dr. Bliss's voice replied on the other end. "I was hoping we might be able to meet today."

"Today?" Arnold said, shocked. "But…but it's Sunday."

"I'm aware," Bliss said, sounding off. "I have…I want to talk to you about something that isn't really appropriate for the office."

"What do you mean?" Arnold asked, feeling anxious.

"I can't tell you right now," Bliss replied. "Can you meet me somewhere? Soon?"

"Yeah," Arnold said, looking around his room for clean clothes. "Give me fifteen minutes. Have you ever heard of the Good Food diner?"


	19. Chapter 19

"Here?" Maria asked, sitting down across from Arnold after she brought him water. "She's coming here? To talk about Helga?"

"Yeah," Arnold said after taking a long drink. He was worried and the liquid seemed to squelch his burning heart. He was still raw after reading the emails and the water slithered through him, cooling his anxious body.

"Huh…" Maria said, putting her elbow on the table, chin in hand, looking out the window with contemplation.

They sat in silence, not looking at one another or speaking. The last time they had seen each other, Arnold had dragged her unconscious brother back to her apartment to sleep off a bender. For some reason, that one encounter had changed everything for him. Before she had been a friend, an accomplice for illegal breaking and entering, and a sounding board for issues he needed to deal with. All of a sudden she was a person with her own life and her own problems. The reality of her situation came crashing back to him in this moment and he couldn't help but look at her differently now. She was different now.

"So," Arnold said, breaking the awkward silence. "How's…how's everything?"

"Oh," Maria said, snapping back to reality. "It's… the same."

Arnold nodded, sipping from his glass again. Maria sighed. "Look, Arnold, let's not get weird here, okay?"

"What do you mean?" Arnold asked as innocently as he could. Maria laughed.

"Wow, that was terrible," She said, sliding out from the booth. "Things don't have to change just because… I still want to be your friend and I still want to help you with this. I'm involved. I want to help you find Helga. Please, Please, please don't let my situation get to you. If it helps, you can forget everything you saw and everything I said. Just please don't stop talking to me. I know you probably don't want to hear it, but I kind of need this."

Arnold didn't respond, but stared at the Formica table. Maria sighed and threw her rag down in front of him. "Look, okay, I know you don't want to admit it, and I sure as hell don't either, but you need me in your life and I need you right know, okay?"

"Maria-" Arnold sighed, but she cut him off.

"It's true and you know it," She said, pointing at him in a threatening manner. "I believed in you from day one and I'd like to think that means something to you. It means something to me, and I could really use a good friend in my life right now. Please, don't let this change things between us."

"It's not something you can just forget," Arnold whispered, finally looking up at her. He was shocked to see her eyes swimming with tears. Just that moment, the bell above the door rang and Arnold turned to see Dr. Bliss standing there, scanning the room for him. She had her brief case with her. When she saw him, she hurried over to the booth. Arnold turned back just in time to see Maria disappear into the kitchen.

"Hey," Bliss slid into the booth across from Arnold, placing her bag next to her on the bench.

Arnold craned his neck, trying to see if Maria was okay, before sighing in defeat. "Hey."

"Did I miss something?" Bliss asked, looking towards the kitchen.

"Just looking for the waitress," Arnold grumbled. "So what is this impromptu meeting all about? You sounded worried."

"Oh, just your casual moral dilemma," Bliss said, putting a hand in her short, peppered grey hair with a nervous exhale. "Weighing the pros and cons can really pluck at your nerves. I have some information that I think could help you find Helga-"

"You're joking," Arnold interjected, his heart skipping beat after beat in anticipation.

"Not in the slightest," Bliss said her voice tense. "However, I'm risking losing my job over it."

Arnold hesitated. What does one even say in this situation? He wanted the information, badly, but would he put his friend's job at risk? Bliss was staring hard at him, trying to gage if he understood the severity of the situation. Arnold looked down at the table. "I couldn't ask you to do that for me."

Arnold looked up when he felt a hand on his. Bliss was looking gently at him, the way a mother looks at a son. "I know you couldn't, that's why you don't have to. I've been in practice for a very long time, if this is what ends my career for me, I think it'll be worth it."

Arnold was speechless. Bliss pulled the briefcase up onto the table and clicked the tabs open with a snap. Arnold watched with bated breath as she pulled thick manila folders out and laid them across the table. At that moment, two fresh water classes clanked onto the table. Maria left without a word.

"These," Bliss said, pressing her hands onto the folders in front of her, "are Helga's files."

"How…" Arnold couldn't believe his eyes. But there, scrawled across the file labels: PATAKI, HELGA.

"You can thank Becky for this," Bliss said. Arnold snapped his head up, shocked.

"Becky? The weird receptionist? The one who is always smiling?"

"Never judge a book by its cover," Bliss practically scolded. "She got them out of the archives for me, and she did it without any suspicion from my bosses. She wanted to help, she always wants to help."

Arnold felt guilty for ever judging her, for ever being rude to her.

"I never told you-well, because I couldn't- but Helga had been coming to me as a patient right up until her disappearance."

Arnold pushed his hands through his hair, unable to believe what he was hearing. Bliss continued. "She…she told some things that might interest you now. That would help you. I wish I had made the connection before."

Bliss slid the first file towards Arnold and nodded at him, giving him permission to read. He touched it, moving slowly, gently, as if the entire thing would disintegrate to dust if he wasn't careful.

He lifted the cover of the file, and began reading.

* * *

It was dark when Arnold and Dr. Bliss finally left the diner; they had been the last customers to leave and all the chairs were already on the tables. It was cold, and light dusty flakes of snow had begun falling, swirling gently in the late winter wind. Arnold couldn't look at Bliss, he couldn't even pull his eyes from the ground. She put her hand on his shoulder, saying something, but his head was in a fog. It was like he was submerged underwater, silence pressing into him, his thoughts the only thing he could hear. He felt her hand squeeze, Bliss crouched slightly, attempting to make eye-contact. Arnold looked up. He felt drunk.

"Are you going to be okay?" Bliss asked, he voice sounded a million miles away.

"Yeah," Arnold said, confused and heartbroken. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"You don't look okay," Bliss said, crossing her arms, hugging herself in the cold.

Arnold turned his gaze from her, scanning the darkness for his car. He could feel the frustration bubbling up from his stomach. He wanted to feel normal, nothing felt right, and he just wanted to sleep. He saw someone walking out from the back of the diner, keys in hand, towards a beat up sedan parked three cars down from his. He snapped his eyes back at Bliss. "I've gotta go."

With that he ran towards the car, leaving Bliss standing in the parking lot alone. He ran to the car near his, sliding to a halt on the icy pavement, placing a cold hand on the window and pushing the driver's side door closed, scaring the shit out of Maria.

"Jesus, Arnold!" She yelled, jumping backwards from the car, placing a hand on her forehead. "Stop doing that! How many times do I have to tell you?!"

"Sorry," Arnold whispered, out of breath. "I'm sorry."

"Just don't do it anymore," She said, pushing his hand off the window, reaching for the handle. Arnold stood in front of the door, blocking her.

"I'm sorry," He whispered again, locking eyes with hers. "I can be a good friend."

She averted her gaze, eyes glassy with tears. "I'm not so sure about that."

"I can," Arnold said, taking her hand in his. "I always come to you with my problems, you should be able to come to me with yours. I'm sorry."

Maria sighed. "It's not like I have a lot of problems to deal with, not like you."

Arnold laughed. "Very true."

"Let me guess," Maria said, removing her hand from his and shoving both into her coat pockets. "You want to talk about your meeting?"

Arnold looked down, sheepish. "Yes."

Maria glared at him. "You realize how unfair this is, right?"

"Yes."

"If you don't follow through," Maria scolded, pointing at Arnold. "If you only apologized so you can get this off your chest, so you can have someone to talk to, but then you turn and run when I need your help, I will never forgive you, got that?"

"Yes."

"Friendship is a two-way street, Arnold," She advanced on him and he backed into the car, pressed flat against the door. "Don't use me. If you do, I'm out."

"Okay."

"Good," Maria said, pulling her keys back out. "Now where are we going? I'll follow you."

* * *

Arnold drove, scanning buildings that lined the narrow city streets, searching for a place where he could think. A lonely pub with dim lighting caught his eye; he whipped his car around and parked.

He stumbled into the pub, his body and mind numb. It was practically empty, it was perfect. Arnold slid into a booth and waited for Maria to catch up to him. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands, folding them on the table, letting them hang to his side resting on the booth's slippery plastic seat, and lacing them through his hair before finally settling on shoving them into his coat pockets where they always were.

The door opened and a gust of cold winter night air circled into the place with Maria. She instantly found him, sitting across from him, pulling her hat and gloves off. "Jesus, could you try to be a little less of a maniac when you drive? Remind me to never get into a car with you ever again."

"It was for me," Arnold said bluntly. "She left for me."

"What do you mean?" Maria asked.

Arnold delved into what he had read in the diner, what he didn't see in Phoebe's emails, what Helga decided to leave out. She was successful at EARTH, very successful, but she wasn't happy, she wanted to do more. She had heard about the water crisis in the Rio Paraguay area, did her research, and discovered something that convinced her to go. When she told Arnold she was leaving for Brazil, that's when things got bad. After their fight, she was depressed. All of her hopes and dreams for them were crushed and she assumed the blame, but she couldn't tell him why she was leaving. But she could tell Dr. Bliss.

"I never told you how I lost my parents, did I?" Arnold asked Maria.

She shook her head, and Arnold continued. "Before I was born, they did work in South America in a place called San Lorenzo. They were helping the native people down there, studying their ways, and even came into contact with a hidden civilization that they had dubbed The Green Eyed People. They helped them retrieve sacred artifacts from thieves and were forever in the people's good graces. So when the people started experiencing a strange illness, my Mother and Father worked endlessly to try to find a cure. They succeeded."

Maria was spellbound. Arnold couldn't stop talking, he had to get this out. "When I was born, they decided to move back to the United States to start the next chapter of their life with me. We were supposed to be a family. Then, one day, when I was very small, their work partner Eduardo returned from San Lorenzo to tell them the Green Eyed People were experiencing the same illness yet again and my mother's cure had stopped working. They flew back to help one last time. They never arrived. They were never seen again."

"As it were, San Lorenzo is located along the Rio Paraguay," Arnold said, his voice shaking. "Helga, during her time at EARTH, uncovered my mother's research papers. She looked at the data from the villages in Brazil and the data my mother had collected and she noticed a pattern: the people in Brazil and the Green Eyed People had the same symptoms, the same death rate, and collected their water from the same river basin. They were experiencing the same thing. She went down to Brazil to find out what was in the water. When she published her first article about it, she uncovered a lot of pollution from big businesses. They were dumping their chemical waste directly into the river. These native people were being destroyed by pollution, and Helga was going to stop them. She organized rallies, she protested, and she published their dirty laundry for the world to see to put some international pressure on these businesses to stop what they were doing and follow the environmental codes and standards set by their home country. It was an American business that had outsourced it's work to South America where it would be cheaper to hire labor and get materials."

"Needless to say, the environmental world was outraged," Arnold pressed on. "This was an American Business! We have standards! The owner of the company had flagrantly defied all of them to make more money! The business was under massive scrutiny and they were being forced to hire environmental engineers to remedy the problem, their tax cuts were eliminated, their government funding was shut down, everything. They were losing billions of dollars. Helga had won. And then, while at a protest rally, she was struck by a vehicle and later died of her injuries."

"But," Maria said, her face white as a sheet. She shook her head, she couldn't continue.

"Helga went to Brazil, to the Rio Paraguay, to finish my parent's work," Arnold said, his voice solemn as he fought back tears. "Helga left to honor my parents for me. She did this for me, and I ruined everything. I ruined the best relationship I had ever had or will ever have. I accused her of being selfish, I told her to leave and never contact me again. We said such hurtful things to one another, all the while she was doing everything for me. I wish…I wish I had known…"

Arnold pushed the palms of his hands over his eyes, trying to keep the hot tears from falling. How could he have known? She never told him! However, looking back, it only makes sense. Knowing what he knows now, is it any surprise she would do anything for him, including avenging his parent's death? Seeing their work through to the very end?

"I have to find her," Arnold whispered, his eyes still covered. "I have to find where they took her. I have to save her."

"What do you mean?" Maria whispered.

"They took her," Arnold said. "They kidnapped her. She didn't die, I know she didn't die. If she was dead, I wouldn't be able to hear her every fucking day of my life. She's alive and she's trying to reach me, I know this for a fact."

"What did those files say?" Maria asked seriously.

"Apparently," Arnold said, taking a deep breath. "She can hear me too."


	20. Chapter 20

A beer had appeared in front of Arnold, sliding into view on the varnished wood surface when Maria returned from the bar. She sat across from him, took a deep swig from her own bottle, then sighed. "Tell me everything."

"She started working for EARTH for a multitude of reasons, turns out," Arnold said, sipping his beer. "She wanted to help people and she wanted space from me. Soon she stumbled upon the Rio Paraguay water problem, and that's when she realized she had my parent's work right there in front of her. That's when she realized she could show me how much she loved me. She got in contact with a lab right here in Hillwood that had been doing research down in South America on the water quality, the research from my mother. That's how she found the connection to the Green Eyed People and Brazil. Apparently, my mother and father were collecting the data and sending it back home. When they thought the people were cured, their friend Eduardo did a little more research. He spent his time in the lab; they spent their time in the field. Eduardo analyzed the water samples my mother had sent and, given the symptoms and the fact that my mother's "cure" was only temporary, Eduardo discovered the people were dying from cancer."

"Helga went down to Brazil, like I said, after discovering the connecting between the people of Brazil and the Green Eyed People. She used Eduardo's chemical composition of the water samples to weed out the cancer causing elements. Using his data, she could pin point what chemicals were coming from where and how much they were polluting. That's how she found the company that was causing the most damage. That's how she busted them."

"How did Doctor Bliss get all this technical information, anyway?" Maria asked, sifting through the papers, her brow furrowed. "These are directly from EARTH, these are Helga's research notes. They are classified."

"Turns out the creepy receptionist is worth more than her weight," Arnold said, laughing at himself for ever doubting her. "She hacked the computer system to get the information for Bliss."

"What?!" Maria gasped, dropping the papers.

"I know," Arnold said, leaning back and drinking. "It's good to know all this information though, I'm glad she gave it to me. It's nice to know exactly what pollutants were down there, what the exact disease was, and the name of the company she trashed."

"You know the company?" Maria asked, her tone hushed and serious.

"Yep," Arnold said. "It's a technology company called Angel."

"How ironic," Maria rolled her eyes.

"But now we have a suspect," Arnold said, tipping his beer bottle towards her to emphasize the importance. "Angel co. was ruined by Helga, I'm sure they were instrumental in ruining her."

"How did no one know the name of the company before?" Maria asked.

"When Helga published her article, she couldn't be sure which company was doing the most polluting. She never mentioned them by name," Arnold replied.

Maria picked up the articles, the research notes, everything. "You're right. She never said who it was. How do you know it was them?"

Arnold slid another file across the table towards Maria. "From this."

Maria straightened the file in front of her, eyeing it carefully. "What…?"

"Helga was busy emailing just about everyone when she went to Brazil," Arnold said, flipping the folder open.

 _Dr. Bliss,_

 _I hope you are doing well. Being here in Brazil is really helping me, I promise. I know you don't believe me. EARTH was a great departure from the force; I finally get to help people on a global scale. Just consider this killing two birds with one stone: I get to help the people, rid their waters of carcinogens, and I get to finish Arnold's parent's work. If that doesn't get him to notice me, nothing will._

 _Dr. Bliss,_

 _I sent you a copy of my article. I can't be too sure, but I'm pretty sure it's Angel. I couldn't say conclusively in the article, but it doesn't really matter. Once people hear it's an American company that's causing all the damage, the EPA will swoop in and force the clean-up of all the businesses down here. Of course, Angel will do it all under wraps. They will lose their funding, they will lose their benefits, and they will be forced to change, but all that won't matter. If they lose their credibility, they'll lose everything. I'm sure a couple million dollars extra for a cover-up won't matter after all the money they're going to lose in environmental regulations. I guess it doesn't matter really, as long as they clean up their act. If people want to keep buying Angel products, that's fine by me, but they better be clean._

"But what about hearing you?" Maria asked. She was on board with the accusation of Angel, the emails and the EARTH data were conclusive and the science made sense, but the voices? Arnold understood why she was so curious. It was weird.

"Yeah," Arnold said, looking down at his lap. "She could hear me too. She'd heard me for years. Not quite as long as I had been hearing her, but still."

"When did it start for her?" Maria asked.

"Oh, right around the end of college," Arnold replied. "Which explains why Dr. Bliss looked like she had seen a ghost when I told her I'd been hearing Helga since I was little. It wasn't the first time she'd heard of that particular oddity."

Maria riffed through the files, searching through notes, trying to find mention of hearing Arnold. Arnold put his hand on the file. "I'll save you some time. When we graduated, I didn't talk about her much. The only time I did was at night…when I responded to her."

"I had never tried before," Arnold continued. "When we were younger and she said my name, I ignored it. I shook it off, acted like it never happened. I blamed it on stress, fatigue, anything. But after college, when it wouldn't stop, I decided to try something different. Every time I heard her name, I'd say hers."

"Why?" Maria asked, completely confused.

"Why not?" Arnold shrugged. "Ignoring it didn't make it go away, so I changed tactics. Surprisingly, it worked. When I heard her say my name and I said hers, that would end it. I didn't know it at the time, but it was because she was over on her end of the line freaking the fuck out the way I had been for years."

"According to Bliss," Arnold said, flipping through the file to find the transcribed visit. "She started coming back to see her around that time. It took her a while to admit to Bliss what was happening, she didn't want to seem crazy. Bliss convinced her that it was all in her head; she was pining for me and convinced herself that she was hearing me respond to her because it's what she wanted to hear. She and Bliss believed it was all in her head."

"And Bliss didn't mention this to you?" Maria asked. "She never thought to bring up that, actually, yeah, the same thing happened to Helga. She heard you talking to her too?"

"She had forgotten about it," Arnold explained. "When Helga started working on the force with me, she stopped saying my name, and I in turn stopped saying hers. I had no need to continue, the voice in my head was gone. The voices stopped for her for a very, very long time. They stopped for me too, for years. So when Helga was presumably dead and I told Bliss I was hearing and seeing her, Bliss didn't make the connection. She assumed I was also hallucinating and needed to find out how Helga died to be at peace with myself. She never thought that maybe I was hearing Helga because she was still alive somewhere saying my name. She thought I was fighting my inner demons, not communicating with Helga telepathically. I mean, honestly, who would come to that conclusion anyway?"

"This is really freaky, Arnold," Maria said, leaning back, her hand on her forehead. "I'm having a really hard time believing all of this. It was easier to believe Helga was haunting you from beyond the grave, but this? I'm not even sure I know what all of this means."

"I do," Arnold said quietly. "She's using an old tactic."

"What?"

"She heard me before, why wouldn't she be able to hear me now?" Arnold suggested. "Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"You can't be suggesting what I think you're suggesting," Maria narrowed her eyes at Arnold, skeptical. "You don't think…"

"It's exactly what I think," Arnold said.

"Arnold," Maria's tone was sympathetic, like she pitied him.

"Let me paint this picture for you," Arnold said, downing the rest of his beer. "We know Helga goes to Brazil to finish my parents work to show me she loves me. We know she finds out Angel co. is doing the majority of the pollution. We know Angel co. takes a major hit. We know Helga doesn't come back from Brazil, at least not alive."

Another beer had appeared in front of Arnold and he took another massive gulp. The adrenaline in his system was making his heart beat fast, and he already felt the effect of the alcohol. "I'm saying she's still down there. I'm saying Angel co. decided to shut her up. I'm saying she's using her last tool to reach out to tell someone she's there. I'm saying she is trying to communicate with me to tell me where to find her. I'm saying she's alive and she wants me to save her."


	21. Chapter 21

"Okay," Maria said with skepticism, pulling Arnold's beer away from him. Arnold rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "So let's say she's communicating telepathically with you…can't believe I'm actually considering this as reality…"

"Thanks," Arnold seethed with sarcasm. "Really, your confidence in me is overwhelming."

"Well come on," Maria threw her hands up in defeat. "It's a little strange right? Just let me process it and I'll be as supportive as I can, give me a break."

Arnold nodded; her suggestion seemed fair. Maria continued. "So she's communicating with you. What do you want to do now?"

"What I've wanted to do from the beginning, find her," Arnold said, grabbing his beer back. "Duh."

"Well aren't we mature?" Maria asked as Arnold took a sip. "But what does this new found knowledge do for you?"

"Who knows, maybe nothing," Arnold shrugged. "I'm going to try harder to get her to hear me though. I'm going to try harder to communicate with her. Maybe she can provide me with something. Some kind of clue. Plus now we can look into Angel Co., we can see what she was doing. I say we need to talk to someone from EARTH."

"Good luck with that," Maria laughed. "They probably don't want to talk to anyone about the situation. One of their employees dies at a protest rally for an article she's writing for work? Not great for business, especially if you're in the business of saving the planet."

"I didn't say it would be easy," Arnold grumbled. She was right, of course. EARTH's main goal is to get people on board with conservation efforts. They want to be the super hero. They want to be instrumental in solving the world's environmental crises, and having someone die while on the job? Not exactly the kind of publicity they're looking for. "Man, this is going to suck."

"Tell me about it," Maria said, swirling her beer bottle, watching the last sip spin at the bottom of the brown glass. They were quiet, both staring at the table. Maria cleared her throat. Arnold looked up and she looked anxious, awkward. "Maybe…maybe we should start looking tomorrow?"

"Well there's certainly not much we can do tonight, right?" Arnold said with a smirk. "It's past midnight now, no one's going to be at EARTH."

"Well…," Maria said, awkwardly playing with her hair. "What do you say we take a break from all of this and just…relax for one night?"

Arnold liked that idea. It had been a long, long, long time since he relaxed. He was feeling happy, the alcohol coursing through his body and making him light-headed but in a good way. "Yeah, let's do it."

Maria's face broke into the biggest smile he'd ever seen. She threw some money down on the table and they left the bar, walking towards the brightly lit epicenter of the city, where bars, clubs, and famous restaurants were still buzzing with life and laughter. They walked together, talking about nothing, laughing, when Arnold realized he heard upbeat, lively music that was getting louder with every step.

Maria turned to him and grabbed his arm, excitement lighting up her face, making Arnold smile. "Hey, I have a great idea. Have you ever tried salsa dancing?"

"Um, no," Arnold said with a laugh. "I'm not really a great dancer. At all."

"Oh come on," Maria said, pulling on his arm. "Come with me, we'll turn you into a great dancer in no time."

Arnold resisted, but she wouldn't relent. He let her pull him into the loud salsa bar. He had never been in a place so full of life and color. The walls were bright red with huge murals of swirling colors, every bright color you could think of. The decorations were equally as colorful and the music was intoxicating. Every body in the room was swaying to the rhythm, the music acting as one heartbeat that everyone shared in unison. Arnold smiled; this place was happiness.

Maria let go of his arm and wove her way through the crowd, leaving Arnold standing alone to soak in the experience. When she returned five minutes later, she had two amber brown drinks in her hand. She handed one to Arnold and pulled out a lighter.

"What are you doing?" Arnold asked as she lowered the flame to the top of her drink.

"Don't worry, it's what you're supposed to do," Maria said with a laugh. A blue flame jumped to life on top of the highly alcoholic liquid. She stuck her straw into the cup and drank the entire glass in one go, the flame petering out at the end. She looked up at Arnold, held her hands out to the side, and bowed. Arnold laughed and Maria held the lighter out, flame lit. "Now you try."

Arnold held his glass out to her and she set his drink on fire, throwing her straw into his glass and commanding him to drink and drink fast. Arnold obeyed. The drink burned on the way down but left a delicious after taste of coffee, amaretto, and some other kind of liquor he couldn't place. He felt warm, his face flushed, and he smiled when Maria cheered for him.

"Well, now that you've had a Mayan Sacrifice," Maria said, taking the glass from him. "I'm pretty sure you have enough liquid courage to try your hand at salsa dancing, am I right?"

Arnold gave up, holding his hands out to the side. "Lead the way."

Maria grabbed his hand and pulled him to the middle of the dance floor. The music pulsed through his body as Maria leaned in close to him, her face next to his as she yelled over the music to instruct him how to move. He was clumsy, definitely not the best dancer in the club, but after a few missteps and laughs when he stumbled, Arnold eventually got the hang of it. Watching the other dancers, he even got enough courage to try spinning Maria once, to which she smiled. It was fun, more fun than he had had in a long time.

After a few minutes of dancing, Maria fanned her face, telling Arnold she was hot and wanted to sit down for a rest. Arnold nodded and she took his arm, pulling him to a corner table where they could watch the festivities.

"You're not so bad, Shortman," Maria said, out of breath, flopping down into her chair.

"Thanks," Arnold said, doing the same. "You're really good at dancing. I wish I was that good."

"Practice makes perfect," Maria said with a wink. A bar tender came over to them and she order two drinks for them, making sure the bar tender put in lots of ice to cool them off. "Growing up in a Hispanic household, there are lots of family parties with lots of dancing. Every major milestone in my life has been marked with tons of food and tons of dancing."

"That sounds like a lot of fun," Arnold said as their drinks arrived. He took a sip of the cool vodka drink and leaned back. He was definitely drunk now. "Do you come here a lot?"

"I used to," Maria said, shrugging. Arnold knew why she wasn't able to come much anymore; taking care of Eddy and working so many shifts at the restaurant really ate up her time. "I go out when I can, though. Helps make the bad days not so bad."

"I wish you could come here more," Arnold said, looking around the room. "It's hard not to feel happy here. You deserve happiness."

Maria blushed and looked down, sipping her drink through a cocktail straw. Arnold's face felt hot. He turned away from her, taking a large gulp of his drink, trying to erase what he said. _You deserve happiness?_ Arnold thought to himself. _Are you insane? That's too close to flirting._

Maria cleared her throat and Arnold looked back at her. She was standing, her hand outstretched, smiling at him. Arnold stared for a long time, remembering a situation like this. He could see it right in front of him, the memory, but it was hazy. Arnold looked from her hand to her face; something didn't add up. He reached up, her fingers lacing with his.

"Geeze, what took you so long?" Maria laughed as she turned and Arnold gasped. He was flooded with the image of Helga in her gown, inviting Arnold to dance, asking the same question in his dream. Arnold followed Maria, his body moving without his mind, and they began to dance with his head in a fog. Helga had asked the same thing. Helga wanted to dance with him. He remembered all the times he had danced with her, specifically the last time…

 _"Happy New Year!" The voices in the office erupted with happiness as confetti rained down on them. Arnold laughed, hugging Helga, high-fiving Gerald while_ _Auld Lang Syne began playing on the television mounted on the wall. Gerald turned to Phoebe and pressed his lips to hers in a romantic kiss, the newlyweds still in the honeymoon phase. Arnold's laughter faded as he looked around; most of his colleagues were married, engaged, or at least in a long term relationship. Only a handful of them were standing there, partner-less and kiss-less, awkwardly waiting for the moment to pass. He looked up and saw Helga was part of the single group. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. They had kissed-briefly- at the wedding. Did she remember? Or was she too drunk? Arnold remembered…_

 _Someone had taken this opportunity to turn on loud dance music. The couples parted and everyone started dancing as the lights were flicked off and the cheap neon disco ball was turned on. Arnold skirted to the edge of the group and hung by the wall, feeling like an awkward teenager at a school dance, watching people having fun. He turned and saw Helga doing the same._

 _He approached. "I see someone really splurged on the decorations this year."_

 _Helga laughed as they watched the sad little disco ball spinning on its stand on a card table. "I'm pretty sure every girl who grew up in the 90's had one of those little things in their room for slumber parties."_

 _"_ _I wouldn't be surprised if that disco ball came straight from someone's childhood bedroom," Arnold said. He felt weird; was that weird to say? It must have been, because Helga smiled but didn't respond. They watched their coworkers dancing. Arnold looked around and saw the table with the alcohol bottles. When in doubt, get drunk. Arnold tapped Helga on the shoulder and jerked his head in the direction of the table, Helga nodded enthusiastically and they headed over._

 _"_ _Looks like the selection is shit," She said, picking up bottles and reading the labels. She laughed and held one up to Arnold. "See? This was $4.99 at the Stop-N-Shop. Big spender, here."_

 _Arnold laughed and watched as Helga scanned the room. No one was watching. She turned and looked at Arnold, pressing a finger to her lips and lifted the bottom of her shirt. Arnold's face flushed with embarrassment as he stared at her flat porcelain stomach. She quickly slid the bottle under her shirt, lowered it, and grabbed Arnold by the wrist, yanking him into the hallway. They stumbled out, Helga laughing, the lights too bright. They walked slowly down the hall, passing drunk couples, people hitting on one another, and a few people making out who really shouldn't have been making out._

 _"_ _This party is getting a little out of control," Arnold said as they passed some fellow officers sliding down the wall in a passionate embrace._

 _"_ _Ah, if they want to make mistakes, let 'em," Helga said, waving away Arnold's concern. "Lighten up, football head."_

 _"_ _Really?" Arnold said, resisting her pull. She turned around and with both hands heaved him into following her again. She laughed and he smiled. "I thought you were over that phase?"_

 _"_ _Just remembering the good ol' days," She said, walking backwards and pulling on him. She found an empty room, the supply closet, and pulled him in. She slammed the door shut and pulled the chord, turning on the dim yellow light. She pulled the bottle out from under her shirt, handing it to Arnold. It was slightly warm from being pressed against her skin. "Want to play a game?"_

 _"_ _I don't know, do I?" Arnold asked, looking at the bottle with skepticism._

 _"_ _Never have I ever?" Helga asked with a shrug. "If you haven't, you have to take a shot?"_

 _Arnold nodded and Helga began. "Never have I ever…had a girlfriend."_

 _"_ _Low blow," Arnold said, shaking his head and pulling the top off the bottle. He sighed, closed his eyes, and tipped the bottle back. He withdrew the bottle from his lips and coughed. "It tastes like rubbing alcohol, god damn!"_

 _Helga laughed, taking the bottle and smelling the top. "Oh Jesus, it smells terrible. Why would you drink this?"_

 _"_ _You told me to!" Arnold said with a laugh. "Besides, you're about to drink it too. Never have I ever had a boyfriend."_

 _"_ _I guess I deserve that," Helga said, lifting the bottle in mock cheers. She took a deep swig and coughed. "You weren't joking, this is the worst. Never have I ever… made out with someone from our graduating class."_

 _"_ _Safe on that one," Arnold said, wiping his brow. Helga frowned, holding the bottle out to Arnold, waiting for him to take it. He didn't touch it. "I haven't!"_

 _"_ _Alright alright, let's see," Helga said, holding the bottle under her chin. She took a swig just for good measure, wincing. "I feel like we need to be drunker for this."_

 _Arnold took the bottle and drank himself, a silent agreement. He was feeling buzzed. Helga took her turn. "Never have I ever… hm…"_

 _"_ _What?" Arnold asked, taking another sip. Helga shook her head, trying to think of a different thing to say. "No tell me!"_

 _"_ _Oh alright," Helga said, putting her hand on her eyes. "This is so stupid... never have I ever had…had sex."_

 _"_ _Seriously?" Arnold asked, looking at her. She nodded. "You went through all of college never sleeping with anyone?"_

 _"_ _Hey, lay off," Helga said, pushing him. "I had other shit going on, I had classes and studying and…and I don't know I had other stuff on my mind! Drink the damn liquor, you jerk!"_

 _Arnold sighed and took a heavy swig. Helga smirked. "I lied."_

 _"_ _I knew it!" Arnold said, pointing an accusing finger at her. He folded his arms and leaned back on the supply rack, smirking. "And I trusted you."_

 _"_ _How will I ever make it up to you?" Helga said with an equally enticing smirk, hands on her hips. She took the bottle from him and took a sip of the burning liquid. Arnold watched her, his smirk fading, eye locked on hers. She lowered the bottle, staring right back; her face tipped downward slightly, her eyes intense. Arnold stepped towards her, standing close, and she looked up at him. He let his eyes scan downward, looking at her body. The alcohol was giving him courage and he put a hand tentatively on her hip. He looked back at her face, her eyes wide, and he tucked a stray piece of golden hair behind her ear…_

 _Just then, a rowdy bunch of boys ran past the closet, yelling and banging into the walls as they went. The office supplies around them jostled in the commotion and Arnold pulled away, looking down. Helga did the same, drinking heavily from the bottle as she moved. They didn't say anything, didn't look at each other, until Arnold couldn't take the silence. "Wanna dance?"_

 _"_ _Gladly," Helga said, and she pushed past him, opening the door and heading back towards the party with Arnold close behind._

 _When they entered the room, it was sweltering hot. Bodies were pressed up against each other, gyrating to the heavy beat from the sound system. Helga had placed the bottle back on the table and turned to face Arnold, looking up briefly at him before turning away. Her cheeks were flushed. Arnold held onto her hip, pulling her close to him, pressing into her. No sooner had he brought her over to him, she threw her arms around his neck, and they danced. The rest of the room melted away. He pressed his forehead into hers, breathing heavily just as she was. It was intense, physical. Arnold felt a heat filling his body as they danced, sweat beading and rolling down the center of his back. He felt closer to Helga than ever before and he pulled her closer into him, his grip tightening on her hips. She curled her fingers into his hair at the base of his neck; he had goosebumps…._

 _After what felt like only seconds of dancing, the lights turned on and the music grew quieter. Couples parted, laughing and panting, checking their phones and watches. They had been dancing for two hours together. As the other started picking up their things and heading towards their cars, Arnold and Helga stood together in the middle of the room, bodies still pressed together, breathing slowing but still deep. Arnold looked down at the woman in front of him, her gazing at the floor, her eyes glossy, lost in a world of thought. When she looked up, her eyes met his in a deep penetrating stare. They stood together, communicating silently, mutually agreeing that this was a dance to remember…_

 _"_ _Hey," Gerald's voice cut through the air like a knife. Arnold instantly let go of Helga and looked up. His best friend was standing with his arm around his wife, staring at Arnold. For someone who was just partying, he didn't look all too happy. Phoebe didn't notice. "We're leaving. Need a ride or anything?"_

 _"_ _N-no," Arnold said, looking to the floor. He didn't see Helga stare at him, disappointed. "I'll…I can get home."_

 _"_ _Alright," Gerald said, guiding Phoebe out the door. "Get home safe man, we need you here tomorrow."_

 _"_ _Okay," Arnold said, feeling ashamed. Of what, though? He was dancing. That was all. And what did Gerald care, anyway? He looked over and saw Helga standing there, her right arm wrapped around the front of her, grasping her left elbow, looking away. "You okay?"_

 _"_ _Yeah," She said with an airy laugh, rubbing her arm. "Yeah, of course, why wouldn't I be?"_

 _"_ _I don't know," Arnold said, scratching the back of his head, feeling where her fingers had been entwined with his hair. "I just…I'm sorry."_

 _"_ _Nah," Helga said, waving away his apology. "Don't be. This was a lot of fun."_

 _"_ _Yeah?" Arnold said, his heart leaping. "You had fun?"_

 _"_ _Yeah," Helga said, her gaze softening. She bumped into him, her shoulder pressing into his, causing him to teeter. "This was a lot of fun."_

 _They walked outside together, the cool air refreshing after being in the stifling hot building. They waited for cabs to take them home. They were silent for a moment before Helga spoke up. "Hey, Arnold?"_

 _He looked over at her. She was tipsy, so was he. She sighed, looking up at the streetlights and closing her eyes. "Don't… don't let him do that."_

 _"_ _Do what?" Arnold asked, feigning stupidity._

 _"_ _You know what I mean," Helga said, eyes still closed. "You do what you want to do. Don't let him influence you. If it makes you happy, fuck the rest."_

 _"_ _I'll try harder next time," Arnold said with a smile, his voice wavering with a light laugh. Helga smiled, her face upturned, the streetlight making her face shine as the gleam of perspiration dried on her forehead. She was pretty._

 _In a swift moment of complete instinct, Arnold leaned over and kissed her on the lips. One quick kiss, but her eyes snapped open and she took a step back, startled. Arnold shrugged. "Happy New Year."_

 _Helga smiled wide, blushing, and looking down at her shoes. "Happy New Year."_

...The sound of the song changing brought Arnold back to the present, his body pressed up against Maria, their salsa moves quickly turning into something else. She pressed into him, her arms snaking around his shoulders. Arnold's fingers hovered over her hips, barely touching. The alcohol told him to take her and pull her close and never let go. His heart was telling him to go home and sober up.

Maria looked up at him and smiled, took initiative and used her own hands to place his firmly on her. She danced into him, her body moving fluidly with his. He let his hands wander, moving up to the curve of her stomach, back down to her hips, feeling her body. He stopped, his movement more rigid, his rhythm off. _This is wrong._

Maria stood on tip toes, her lips next to his ear. She touched his cheek and whispered, "It's okay."

With that she turned his face towards her, pressing her lips on his.

"Arnold."

Arnold pushed her away, a small yell escaping his lips as he did, lacing his fingers into his hair, pressing the sides of his head, attempting to keep his brain from exploding. He squeezed his eyes shut as Helga's voice drilled deep into his mind.

"Arnold."

I'm sorry," Arnold said, backing away from Maria. She looked concerned. He tripped as he tried to disentangle himself from the crowd. He pushed people away as he darted for the door, needing fresh air and fast.

"Arnold."

"I'm sorry," He yelled as he burst into the cold. He could barely control himself as he crouched down, pressing on his temples, staring at the concrete. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Arnold!" Maria yelled. He heard her running out to him, stooping low, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him upright. "Are you okay? What's happening?"

"I need to go home," Arnold cried franticly, heading towards the street where they parked. "I need to go. I'm sorry, I can't do this. I… I love her."

Maria stopped dead in her tracks, like she had been shot. Arnold watched as her eyes welled with tears. She laughed at herself, wiping them away with frustration. She walked up to him, grabbing his keys, and heading for his car. As she passed, she spoke. "I know."


	22. Chapter 22

"I think I can drive myself home now," Arnold whispered. They were standing by their cars. neither one of them had left, wanting to sober up before getting behind the wheel, resulting in awkward silence that no one wanted to break. Maria held out her arm, her palm flat, presenting Arnold his keys without a single glance at him. He took him, his fingers brushing her skin. She recoiled from his touch. With his head down, he went to his car.

He turned the engine over and closed his eyes, breathing in the cold air that filled his car. He put the car in drive when he heard tapping on his window. Maria was there, eyes red, staring at him the way that she does. He lowered his window.

"Did it ever cross your mind?" She asked, voice wavering. Arnold didn't answer. "Did you ever once, just once, think that maybe we could have been something? I know you love her, but… I just want to know if I was ever an option for you."

Arnold's heart sank. He felt terrible for his friend, the woman he had been relying on and confiding in throughout this whole ordeal. She was always there for him and never once had she let him down, though he had disappointed her so many times. Despite all that, she had always forgiven him. Now he knew why.

"Maria," Arnold said and he could not disguise the pity in his tone. Maria crossed her arms, looking down.

"You can stop right there," She said. She shook her head and laughed at herself again, a cold, mocking laugh, ashamed and embarrassed of her own foolish heart. "When someone starts a sentence like that, it can only end badly."

"No, listen," Arnold said, getting out of the car. He put his hands on her shoulders, trying to comfort his friend. "There was a time, back when you and I first started this whole thing… I thought about it."

She looked up at him, wide-eyed. "Really?"

"Yeah," Arnold said, leaning up against his car. She leaned with him. "I would be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind. I mean, this whole thing is so crazy, there was always a part of me that doubted whether or not Helga was even alive and told me to move on."

"You said there was a part of you that believed that," Maria said, picking up on his past-tense. "That part of you is gone, isn't it?"

"It is," Arnold said. "I believe she's alive, and I need to find her. I… I love her."

"Yeah, I know," Maria sighed. "I just wish you had found that out sooner…then maybe this would have never happened and I could have been spared the heartache."

She went to her car, leaving Arnold standing there, feeling like an ass. He watched her pull out of the parking lot and drive away. He stood there for a long, long time, until her tail lights were no longer visible.

When he arrived back at the apartment, he turned off his car and sat in the silence, leaning his head back with his eyes closed. " _I should have waited to drive home,"_ he thought as the world started tilting around him. He opened his car door and let the cold air wash over him, breathing it in.

Dragging his feet, he went upstairs and found Sid sitting in the kitchen. "Hey Arnold, where have you been?"

"Out," Arnold said, kicking his shoes off. He headed for his bedroom, not interested in a heart-to-heart when he heard Sid sigh. Still a little tipsy, he felt his temper flare and turned to his roommate. "What?"

"Nothing," Sid said, sliding out of his chair and heading for his own room.

"No, come on," Arnold said, throwing his jacket on the table. "If you have something to say, say it."

"Alright, fine," Sid said, turning to Arnold, anger in his eyes. "You've turned into a real ass-hole recently, and I'm fucking sick of it."

"Yeah well, nothing I can do about it," Arnold said, throwing his hands up and heading towards his room.

"That's not true," Sid yelled. He put his hands on his head in frustration. "Talk to your friends. We're here for you, that's what friends are for."

"Look, I'm trying okay?" Arnold said, rubbing his face. "It's draining me. It's been rough. I had a rough night, so sue me! Everyone is on my back about getting better and going back to normal but have you ever thought that maybe healing isn't really a thing? That maybe you don't get better? I don't want to forget what happened to Helga and I don't want to move on- it's part of my life now. And I know you guys think that she's not alive, but I do. Even if I'm wrong-which I'm not- then let me be sad for as long as I need to! If she's really dead, I'll be sad for the rest of my god damn life, but you have to give me the time I need to learn to live with it! Right now, I'm exhausted from it! I want to find her, I know she's alive, but it's wearing me out!"

Sid sighed and sat back down at the table. "We get it, really…or at least I get it. You don't have to pretend like nothing happened, you don't have to go back to the way you were, but…it just seems like this is taking you a hell of a long time to get over, you know? Even Phoebe is better than you are, and they were best friends! What's gotten into you, man?"

"I just know she's alive," Arnold said, folding his arms and looking to the floor.

"I thought you said she was murdered?" Sid asked.

"She's alive," Arnold said. "She told me to find her, and I told her to stay safe and stay alive, and she promised she would."

"She…promised?...Okay, fine, she's alive," Sid said, not wanting to get into the same old argument about whether or not Arnold was talking to Helga. "Regardless, what is with your obsession? Why are you doing this?"

"Because…" a lump in Arnold's throat stopped him from admitting to his roommate the way he felt about Helga. It happened every time. It happened when he talked to Gerald. Why couldn't he talk to his friends about this? What was he so afraid of? He fought back the fear. "Fuck it, because I love her. I love her, and I loved her before, and I loved her when she started working at the station, and I loved her when she quit, and I loved her when we fought, and I miss her, and I never told her, and I owe it to her to find her. It's my fault she left. It's my fault we fought. I owe it to her to give something back to her. That's all."

Sid sat, eyes wide, dumbfounded. "I'm sorry…you love Helga?"

"Yeah," Arnold said, folding his arms. "I love Helga."

"Did she know that?" Sid asked.

"Not at all."

"So you want to find her…because you love her?"

Arnold rolled his eyes. "It's more than that, okay?"

"But really it's not," Sid said, pointing at Arnold with a smirk. "You want to find her because you love her. It all boils down to that. You love her."

"Look, if you're gonna-"

"I think that's fucking amazing."

It was Arnold's turn to be stunned. "I mean, it's more than that though. She was kidnapped, I'm sure of it."

"So she's in trouble?" Sid asked. Arnold nodded and handed Sid the folder Dr. Bliss had brought to him. He scanned the papers while Arnold explained what was happening.

"Then what are you doing standing around talking to me?" Sid said. "Help your girl. Get busy. The sooner you find her, the better."

Arnold smiled. "I thought for sure you would have judged the shit out of me for saying that."

"We're adults, Arnold, who am I to say who you can and can't love?" Sid shrugged and stood, heading towards his room again. "By the way, this Becky girl? You should probably cozy up to her, she's got some skills at hacking, you should take advantage of that."

* * *

"Hello again, Mr. Shortman! Having a good day today?"

Arnold entered the massive buildings foyer and shook out his messy blonde hair. The temperature had increased and instead of the soft beautiful snow, they got rain. Everything was slush and mud. Arnold looked up at Becky, dripping wet, and she smiled brightly at him as if the sun was shining and everything was rainbows. He really had to hold back his sarcasm this time; he needed her help after all.

"It's not bad," Arnold said with a sigh. "How are you?"

"Oh I'm great!" She said, "Looks like winter is almost over out there, nothing like a little rain to wash away the winter blues, right?"

"Right," Arnold said with a little laugh. How can someone be so positive all the time? It was a little endearing. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Mr. Shortman! Whatever you need!" Arnold approached the desk and pulled the file out of his jacket and presented it to her. She took it in her hands, flipped open the front cover, and immediately frowned. She looked up at him, confused.

"I need to talk to you about this," Arnold said seriously.

Becky stood suddenly, grasping the file tightly in her hands. "It's my break."

With that she hurried from her desk and scampered through swinging doors right behind her desk. Arnold swore under his breath, jumped the desk, and followed.

"Becky, wait!" Arnold yelled and she sprinted down the hall. He ran after her. She ran around the corner, Arnold close behind, when he heard a strange metallic noise. Just as he made the turn, he saw as huge garage door slid towards the ground, Becky's shoes still visible in the sliver of light from the room beyond. Arnold ran and, sliding to a halt, threw his foot under the door. " _Thank god for steel-toed boots_ ," Arnold though as the huge metal door slammed down. He heard Becky struggling to force the door down, but Arnold grabbed the bottom of it and heaved upward, sending the door flying on it's track, crashing as it flung fully open.

"I can't help you!" Becky cried, turning to run, but Arnold grabbed her wrist. She screamed and Arnold pulled her closer, slapping a hand over her mouth. She looked frantic.

"Please!" Arnold whispered in her ear. "Stop, don't scream! I'll let you go but please don't scream! I just want to talk!"

Becky nodded, and Arnold took his hand off her mouth, but didn't let go of her arm. He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair as Becky whimpered. "Oh come on now, don't do that."

"You're not going to hurt me are you?" Becky asked tearfully.

"What?" Arnold said, utterly confused. "Why the hell would you think that?"

Becky shrugged, and Arnold sighed in frustration. "Have I ever given you any reason to fear me or to distrust me? No. So why the hell are you running away from me like I'm some sort of ax-murderer?!"

"I don't know," Becky said, crying freely now. "I get a little over excited sometimes, I can't help it."

She melted to the ground, sitting awkwardly on her knees, one hand wrapped around the file, the other stretched upwards still in Arnold's grasp, and cried.

"Look, there's no reason to cry, honestly," Arnold said. He sat down cross-legged next to her, letting her arm go. "See? I'm not going to hurt you, I'm not upset with you or angry or anything, I just wanted to talk about that file."

"But you're a cop right?" Becky said, still crying.

Now it was starting to make sense. "Ooooh, you think I'm here to arrest you, don't you?"

Becky sobbed harder and nodded, clinging to the file. Arnold shook his head, putting a hand on her shoulder in comfort. "No, no, you've got it all wrong. I wanted to ask you if you could get more information for me, that's all!"

"Really?" Becky asked, sniffing and wiping her nose on her sleeve. Arnold cringed a little.

"Really really," He said with the best smile he could muster. Becky smiled back.

"I guess I overreached a little bit, huh?" Becky said, laughing and hugging the file, looking sheepishly towards the ground.

"Yeah, just a little," Arnold laughed, standing up. He extended his hand to her and helped her off the ground. "Just for future reference though, never run away from the cops. That makes it worse."

"Okay," Becky agreed. "So…what kind of information do you need?"

* * *

Arnold followed her to the basement of the building where an elaborate computer system was crammed into a tiny spare closet. There were two swiveling stools amid the glowing blue screens and the hum of machinery. "Welcome to my work space."

"Does your boss know you have this down here?" Arnold asked, taking a seat on one of the stools. Becky smiled, putting her finger to her nose, and sat down.

"So you want more information about Helga's work?" Becky asked.

"Kind of," Arnold said. "I want to find out what Angel Co. has been working on. I want to know more about her research and why those bastards would kidnap her. I want to know what she could has possibly done to them that would justify this."

"Right," Becky said, writing everything down on a piece of paper. "We should probably see how much involvement EARTH has with her disappearance too- can't rule out conspiracy."

"Very true," Arnold said, leaning back and folding his arms, looking at Becky. "You know, if you wanted to you could probably work for the police instead of run from them. You've got a real knack for detective work, I can tell. We could always use more people like you."

"Thanks," Becky said, smiling and brushing her hair off her shoulders. "I appreciate the offer, but this is just a hobby. You should see my real lab, my real work would knock your socks off."

She winked at Arnold and he sat there absolutely shocked. Talk about a complete 180- this girl when from over emotional, over-reacting, and nauseatingly chipper to a badass computer whiz with confidence to spare in the blink of an eye. Arnold smirked- he vowed to never underestimate anyone ever again.

Arnold sat and watched Becky work, the machines around them humming and whirring as she cracked her way into the secure systems of not only EARTH, but Angel co., the Hillwood Cancer Research Facility-HCR for short- and the University of Hillwood, where Arnold's parents had been doing the majority of their work. Time was moving slowly, and when Arnold checked his watch he realized he had been sitting in the sweltering closet with Becky for over an hour.

"Anything yet?" He asked, wiping the sweat from his eyes.

"It's a delicate process," Becky said, her eyes trained on the screens, working diligently. "It takes finesse, and most importantly patience. Give it time, you're results are coming."

"Any idea how long it will be?" Arnold asked, feeling light headed from the heat and his suddenly all too apparent hunger. His stomach growled loudly.

"Not really, no," Becky said, impatience in her voice. Arnold felt sheepish for even asking. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to, I can give the results to Dr. Bliss and she can deliver them to you if you'd like."

"No, I'll stay, I asked for the information, I'm not going to leave you to do all the work alone," Arnold said, settling in for a long night.

He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep or for how long, but he was suddenly awoken by the sound of Becky clapping her hands. He jumped, falling off his stool onto the ground, looking up to see Becky staring at the screen in triumph, pushing her fist into the air.

"We've got it!" She exclaimed, laughing with glee.

"What?" Arnold asked, rubbing his head as he got back up. "What did you get?"

"Everything," Becky said, clicking a few buttons before a high-powered printer began shooting page upon page of information onto her desk. "If you want to know it, it's here. Every single word about Helga that EARTH ever printed, every stitch of information about the research from HCR, every piece of work about the Green-Eyed people from U of H, everything. Including any and all top secret information from Angel Co. regarding their work in South America…I think you are going to find this all very interesting."

She reached over to the printer and pulled the massive stack of paper towards her before inserting it into a large three-ring binder. She handed it to Arnold, smiling wide, along with his original file. "After you read this, destroy it. If you can't destroy it, you better damn well find a good place to hide it. If anyone catches you with this information, you're screwed. I myself am have already wiped any and all information from my computer system, so what you hold in your hands is the only existing proof of any of this. I hope it serves you well."

"I don't know how to thank you," Arnold said, breathless. He couldn't believe all the information she managed to get for him. "This is unbelievable."

"I just have one request," Becky said, her back to Arnold as she went around the room, shutting down her system.

"Anything you name it," Arnold said, still in disbelief that she was able to do this for him. He was shocked to turn around and see Becky standing inches away from him, her face stone-cold and serious.

"Never tell anyone about what I did for you," She said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Never mention my name to anyone. I had nothing to do with this. I trust Dr. Bliss and for some reason she came to me and that's why I agreed to help you today. Next time you see me, everything will be as it was. This never happened. Understand?"

"Y-yeah," Arnold said, stumbling backwards. "I promise. Not a word."

"Good," Becky said, opening the door and holding her arm out, gesturing for Arnold to leave her space. He walked out, looking down at the file, feeling guilty that he had already told not one but two friends where his original information was from. From now on, he was on his own.

Arnold walked towards the entrance of the building, shocked to see night had fallen and the streets were light with neon signs. He turned to see Becky sitting at her desk, smiling wide.

"Have a nice night, Mr. Shortman!" She said cheerfully.

Arnold nodded and waved, walking out into the street. He laughed to himself, shaking his head, almost in utter disbelief at what had just happened. He looked down at the stack of information in his hands and his heart raced. He was about to learn the truth. He was about to learn everything.


	23. Chapter 23

Arnold sat on the floor of his room, back against his bed, binder in his lap, unopened. The small desk lamp on his bed created disfigured shadows that jutted across the floor in jagged patterns. He stared straight forward at Helga, sitting against the wall and looking at him with unwavering eye contact.

"If I open this," Arnold whispered, putting his palms flat on the binder. "Will I find you?"

Helga didn't move, didn't make any indication she had heard him at all. Arnold sighed and opened the binder.

* * *

Arnold's alarm clock let out one screeching chime before Arnold slammed his fist on the snooze button. He had been awake all night, his eyes red with a mix of tears and extreme exhaustion, both physically and emotionally. He had learned so much. Along with the old file from Dr. Bliss, Arnold had almost all the information. Almost.

Recalling the old information, Arnold had remembered that Helga had used Eduardo's research in her own paper, finding out who was doing the most damage to the Rio Paraguay. With this new information, however, he realized that it was not just Eduardo's study, but one they shared. When she was doing her research and discovered that the Green-Eyed people my mother studied and the people in Brazil were exhibiting the same exact symptoms, she went to Eduardo personally. They worked together, comparing water samples from the villages of the Green-Eyed people and from the villages in Brazil and discovered some startling similarities that lead them to the conclusion that the people of Brazil were suffering from the same illness. Helga hadn't just done the reporting; she had done the actual research and made the discovery with Eduardo.

Before she even went to Brazil, she took her information to HCR. She had written a grant proposal and everything, explaining how she could not only prove these people were suffering from cancer, but she knew what chemical were being dumped and who was doing it. She planned on stopping them. HCR agreed to send her down with a Doctors without Borders mission trip and EARTH gave her a new task of reporting what she saw.

What Arnold found startling though is that, according to EARTH, Helga had opted out of the protest she was supposedly killed at. Based on a police report filed from the CEO, she had contacted them the day before, announcing she would not be attending due to concerns for her own personal safety. She was rarely in contact with her boss for this same reason, believing her emails and phone messages may have been tampered with. She did not tell them where she would be that day, all they knew was that she didn't want to go to the protest. When they saw on the news that she had been struck by a car, they had assumed she changed her mind and didn't tell them due to her fear of being hacked. Arnold examined every scrap of information she had sent to EARTH and every email they had sent to her- while he was no undercover investigative office, it seemed to him that EARTH was clean in this case. There was no foul play.

"So where are you?" Arnold whispered at the girl across from him, still staring straight ahead. A frown played on her lips, anger etched in her eyes. She looked just like her old self, but frightfully thin, bruised, and broken. Arnold averted his gaze and pressed on.

Somehow, Becky was able to access saved PDF files of Helga's photocopied notes on her cancer research. Angel Co. was circled and highlighted on her page of potential polluters. She had page upon page listing all kinds of chemical compounds that were known to be cancerous and lines connecting them to various companies that had factories along the river, connecting the product they made to the chemical killer they might produce.

"I forgot how smart you were," Arnold said with a smirk, shaking his head at the complexity of her work. "I couldn't figure this stuff out if I tried. You've got real drive, did you know that?"

He looked at Helga again, who again made no indication of hearing him.

She could have gone after any one of these companies, but Angel Co.- with their electronic manufacturing- seemed to crop up more times than anyone else. She was going big, chasing the shark over the little fish. She was attacking the biggest name with the most to lose, which would produce the biggest uproar and hopefully, the biggest change. She nailed it.

"But what I don't understand," Arnold said, putting the papers down and rubbing his eyes. "Is why they would kidnap you? What kind of sick person would resort to that? Why? What does it do? What did they accomplish?"

Arnold spread the stacks of papers across the floor, looking for a connection- anything. He studied the chemicals, the companies, Helga's work, the emails, the news articles, the police reports; He was missing something, but what?

Suddenly, he saw something. Arnold crawled forward, grabbing one of Helga's pages of notes. She had written down the names of every single company on the river, along with their parent companies. There were conglomerates- multinational businesses that bought out others and therefore profited from them- that owned many of the factories on the river. But one name stood out. One name seemed to own more companies than all the others. One company owned not only Angel co., but when Arnold looked back on the list of polluters, owned many of the notoriously bad dumpers as well.

It was called SI2.

Arnold leapt from the floor, staggering over to his laptop and searching for SI2. As far as he could tell, there was no bad press on them. There was a brief mention of their involvement with Angel Co. and how they planned on working with the company to clean up their mess, followed directly with an article suggesting SI2 would sell Angel Co., a desperate attempt to rid themselves of a bad seed. Other than that, the company was revered.

Arnold looked at Helga's list, looking at her tangled web of lines connecting chemicals to companies. She looked up the location of their factories, not only in Brazil but in the entirety of South America. Dotted all along the river, as far north as the headwaters Mato Grosso in Brazil all the way down to the Paraná River, were facilities owned by the major polluters in Helga's study. All of them were from SI2. "Oh, shit," Arnold whispered, running his hand down his face in complete awe. He swiveled around in his chair, mouth agape, shaking his head at Helga. "You almost took down a multi-billion dollar corporation."

The key word was almost.


	24. Chapter 24

"Well, at least I know one thing," Arnold said, picking at a spot on the leather chair in Bliss's office. "I understand now why she was kidnapped."

"You do?" Bliss asked, her voice hushed. Her demeanor had changed completely. Before she was trying to heal Arnold, constantly teetering on the brink of believing him and pitying him. Now she knew he was right and wanted to know everything and do anything that would help find Helga.

"Yeah, I mean, I don't agree with it," Arnold clarified. "It's a fucking sick thing to do, kidnapping someone and hold them hostage to make sure they don't ruin their company, but I now know their motive."

"So what's the next step?" Bliss asked, leaning back in her chair, sighing and rubbing her stiff neck. "I don't know how much more I can do to help you."

"Are you kidding me?" Arnold laughed. "If it wasn't for you, I'd still be stomping around town insisting she was alive with no one to believe me. I'd still be debating on whether or not I was even sane!"

"I mean, you still hear voices and see apparitions," Bliss pointed out.

"Yeah, I'm not so concerned with that anymore," Arnold said, scrunching up his nose and shaking his head, making Bliss laugh lightly. He smiled before leaning back and looking out the window, considering Dr. Bliss's question. "As for the next step…I suppose it's figuring out what exactly happened to Helga. I've got to find out where she is, and to do that I should probably find out where she was taken from. There's got to be some kind of trail I can follow, some way I can find her…"

"Have you talked to Maria lately?" Dr. Bliss asked.

Arnold frowned. "No. She won't return my calls."

He was hoping they didn't have to talk about Maria ever again. He hurt his friend, which was painful enough. He didn't like being reminded that his one other ally in this whole thing was no longer speaking to him. Every day, he desperately wanted to talk to her, and every day it hurt him a little more that he couldn't.

"Besides," Arnold said, heaving himself from the chair and going towards Bliss's book shelf. He examined the titles. "Becky told me I shouldn't talk to anyone about this. So really it doesn't matter anymore that Maria won't talk to me, because she's out."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is she's no longer part of this mission," Arnold said, his voice suddenly changing from emotional longing to his commanding policeman tone. "I can't afford to keep her involved with what's at stake."

"Fair enough," Dr. Bliss barely reacted to his suddenly harsh tone. "But do you ever think about talking to her about more than just Helga?"

"No," Arnold replied, indicating he had had enough of this subject.

Bliss nodded, and they stayed silent in the office until the end of the session.

"So what do you think? Do you want to tell me anything?"

Arnold was sitting against his wall again with Helga right next to him. She hadn't moved all day, still in the same spot, but now she looked tired. Her eyes were drooping and every now and then her head would nod forward before she snapped awake.

"I wonder how much you even know," Arnold mused out loud. He stared at her for a long time, watching her breathe. "Remember when you promised me you'd stay alive?"

Helga didn't respond. Arnold's frustration grew. It had been so long since she had spoken to him. Despite the fact he knew she was alive, he felt a little twinge of pain when he considered what Doctor Bliss had said earlier that day. He still saw her and heard her, but was it real? When there were long spans of time between their communications, it only made his uncertainty grow.

"Talk to me," Arnold said, wanting desperately to remove any feeling of doubt. "Tell me something. Anything. Just talk to me."

Helga didn't move. Arnold felt the frustration boiling in his stomach. He felt like yelling at her. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, closing his eyes and attempting to bring his heart rate down. When he opened his eyes again, he had an idea. It had been a long time since he tried this, but maybe…

"Helga," He whispered. She didn't move. He moved closer to her and put his lips near her ear. "Helga."

This time, her eyes opened. Arnold's heart skipped a beat. Did she hear him? Or was she just waking up? She sat very still, so he tried again. "Helga."

She snapped her head to the side, turning towards Arnold, her face now just inches away from his. It startled him, but he didn't move. Her gaze was intense, and he tried again. "Helga, can you hear me?"

Without warning, her eyes welled with tears. She smiled, forcing the tears out of her crinkled eyes, rolling down her cheeks. Arnold smiled wide. "Can you hear me?"

She wiped the tears from her face, and nodded. Perhaps she had been waiting to hear him again, too.

"Help me," Arnold said, and her smile faltered a little. "I need to know how to find you. Where are you?"

Helga shook her head.

"Do you have any idea where you are?"

Helga shook her head.

"How did they find you? How did they even kidnap you?"

Helga shook her head again, looking defeated as more tears rolled down her face. She had no idea how to help him. Arnold pressed her for anything she might know. "They knew where you were? Who you were? Had they ever even seen you? How could they know exactly where you were staying, let alone you were in Brazil."

Helga held her hand up, her palm facing Arnold, and he stopped his incessant questioning. She waited a long time, eyes wide with fear. Before he could ask another question, Helga's gaze snapped forward and she scrambled to her feet, staring up at something invisible to Arnold. Without Warning, Helga's arm flew forward, as if someone had grabbed her by the wrist, and yanked her forward, where she faded from his view into thin air.

Arnold sat at his desk bouncing his knees, his hands laced into his hair, his mind racing. It was hard to concentrate on the work in front of him, and those who passed by him gave him nervous glances, but he didn't care.

"Shortman," Wolfgang had appeared in the doorway, arms folded and leaning on the frame. "Having trouble over here?"

"No," Arnold said, trying his best to look calm and relaxed. "Why, have you heard differently?"

"Oh, just a few concerned whispers here and there," Wolfgang said, coming around the corner, placing a hand on Arnold's desk. "People worry."

"Yeah well they shouldn't," Arnold replied, putting his hands on his keyboard as if preparing to work. Wolfgang wouldn't leave "Do you mind?"

"Look," Wolfgang sighed. "I know you don't like all this monitoring and shit, but it's gotta be done. In this line of work, breakdowns are common, but rarely do we keep officers who have had an incident employed around here. You're a special case, just be thankful we didn't sack you, okay?"

"Thanks?" Arnold said, not really sure how to take the comment from his boss. "And I didn't really have a break down, you know."

"Call it what you want," Wolfgang said, waving Arnold's words away. "You're on thin ice, any concern with you I have to address. You better start working on that attitude of yours."

Wolfgang walked away before Arnold could retaliate, which was probably a good thing. " _Work on my attitude?"_ Arnold thought to himself. _"Why don't you work on your attitude, you asshole."_

Arnold struggled throughout the day, his mood getting worse and worse. It didn't help that a few of the guys kept asking him to join them at the diner, an invitation he denied every time. _"Wouldn't be surprised if that's why they're so worried about me."_

How could they have known what had happened between him and Maria? If they did know, if anyone knew, they wouldn't blame him for not going to her diner. Hell, if any of them knew what had happened, they probably wouldn't worry so much about him crazy murdering them.

With his mood about as low as it could be, Arnold decided to do something a little risky. Checking to make sure the coast was clear, he reached into his laptop bag and pulled out the binder of information from Becky. He felt guilty, remembering her warning about keeping the information out of the wrong hands, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't go eight hours without looking for some other clue.

He slid the binder onto his lap, awkwardly trying to keep it completely hidden from anyone walking by. He scanned the pages, looking for anything he could have missed.

"What are you doing?"

Arnold slammed the binder shut, snapping his gaze up to see Gerald standing in the doorway, looking perplexed.

"Oh, just," Arnold was having trouble thinking on his feet. "Take out menus."

"Take out menus?" Gerald asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I…I keep a bunch in a binder so I can order food when I want to," Arnold said, hoping the lie was believable.

"Whatever man," Gerald said, laughing. "Why don't you skip that and come to the diner?"

Great. Exactly what Arnold had been hoping to avoid. "You know, I think I'll pass today, but thanks for asking."

"That's funny," Gerald said, crossing his arms and giving Arnold a look that was anything but amused. "You've passed on lunch every day for the past week. What's up?"

"Nothing," Arnold tried lying, but his voice gave him away. Gerald rolled his eyes. "Alright, look, Maria and I… we kind of stopped talking and I don't really want to see her right now."

"What happened?" Gerald asked. Arnold sighed and looked down to the floor, scratching his neck, not sure how much detail he really wanted to get into, when something caught his eye. There was a piece of paper on the floor between his feet. It was folded into a nice, neat square. He hadn't noticed it before. His eyes snapped to the binder. Is that where the paper fell from?

"Earth to Arnold," Gerald said, waving his arms at Arnold, trying to get his attention.

"Sorry," Arnold looked up, sliding his foot over the piece of paper. "We just had a weird moment, nothing major…I actually think I need to go see Dr. Bliss…"

"A moment?" Gerald asked. "And right now? Can't it wait?"

Arnold bent quickly and shoved the binder into his bag, snatching the paper off the ground and shoving it into his pocket before standing up and heading for the door, brushing past Gerald. "Oh you know, I just have a strong feeling I might snap or something."

"That's not funny, dude," Gerald followed him out of the office and down the hall.

"Wasn't meant to be," Arnold called behind him. He felt Gerald's hand grab his shoulder, spinning him around to face his friend.

"You know, I fought hard for you to keep your job," Gerald said, anger etched in his face. "I know Wolfgang said something to you today. I know he told you people are worried about you freaking out or something, but don't let that affect you. You're doing pretty well…or you were at least, until you stopped coming to lunch."

"I'll make you a deal," Arnold said, backing away from his friend towards the door. "You find a new place to eat, I'll join you again! Simple as that!"

"Why don't you just make up with Maria?" Gerald called after him. Arnold felt his patience wearing thin. He kept walking. "You're letting a good woman go, man. You could have a better life than this if you just took a chance!"

"Oh, my God," Arnold muttered before turning back towards Gerald. "You really don't get it do you?"

"Get what?" Gerald asked. "I just want you to live your life."

"Alright, fine, you wanna know why I don't want to go to the diner?" Arnold said, his blood boiling. "Because I went dancing with Maria! I did exactly what you said and I went out and I lived my life! Then she kissed me! Then I had a fucking panic attack thinking about Helga. I didn't want to kiss Maria because I didn't want to give her a false impression because I love Helga, Damn it."

He remember the night with Maria, how his mind had snapped back to the holiday party, how Helga had told him to do what made him happy and fuck the rest. He wished he had listened to her sooner and not let Gerald have this strange hold on his life. But now he couldn't care less. "I love Helga, and that's why I won't give up on her. I really don't give two shits what you have to say about it, anyway, I'm doing what I want. I wish I didn't have to, but it gives me purpose and I know I can find her. I'm not happy now, but I can be. And when I get happy, I can forget the rest. This is me getting better. Take it or leave it."

With that Arnold turned on a heel and left the building, not giving Gerald any opportunity to retaliate. He needed to go to Dr. Bliss's office, but he wasn't going to see her. He had business elsewhere.


	25. Chapter 25

"Becky," Arnold said the moment he entered the building. The receptionist looked up and gave Arnold a chipper smile.

"Hello Mr. Shortman! Lovely day, isn't it?" She said in her fake sunshine tone, but her eyes conveyed a warning to Arnold: don't say anything. Arnold ignored it.

He pulled the paper from his pocket and held it up to her. "Tell me what you meant by this."

Becky stared at the little note in Arnold's hand, her handwriting clear as day, facing her. She faltered, but only for a moment, before plastering a smile on her face again. "I'm not quite sure what you mean, Arnold, but I can direct you upstairs to someone who might be able to help you!"

"Someone else was here," Arnold read the sheet of paper, and Becky shushed him.

"Arnold!" She hissed. "Not here!"

She looked around before hurrying around the desk, grabbing Arnold's hand and pulling him out onto the busy street. Arnold looked puzzled. "I thought I told you never to bring that up again."

"What do you mean someone else was here?" Arnold hissed, holding the paper up to her again. "What does this note mean?"

"It means exactly what it says," Becky said, frustrated. "It means someone else had been snooping around in those files before me!"

"What?!" Arnold yelled. Becky shushed him again. "How can you tell?"

"Arnold, I can't…I can't talk about this, remember?" Becky pleaded desperately.

"Well I need to talk to you about it," Arnold said sternly. "Where can we go to talk? Your computer room?"

"No no no," Becky said, waving her arms at the suggestion. "We need…someplace secure…"

Up on the seventh floor, Becky knocked on Dr. Bliss's office door. A few minutes later, Bliss ushered the pair into her office.

"Okay, now explain yourself," Arnold demanded. He was angry. Bliss looked between Arnold and Becky, who was sitting in the leather patient's chair.

"What's this about?" Bliss asked.

"She knows something and she's not telling me," Arnold said, advancing on Becky. "How do you know someone had been hacking Helga's flies before us?"

"People leave digital footprints," Becky answered quickly. "The person who had read those files before me clearly wasn't a great hacker; there was evidence of their tampering everywhere. Actually, it made it kind of difficult to cover up our own tracks, they left such a mess."

"Can you figure out who it was?" Arnold asked, pacing the floor now. "I need to know."

"I…Arnold, I can't," Becky said putting her hands on her head with a heavy sigh.

"Why?" Arnold continued to press her, unrelenting. His academy training had taught him how to question people like Becky, and he was using it to his advantage. "Tell me why you can't figure it out."

"It's not that," Becky said. "I…do you promise I won't get into trouble?"

"What do you mean?" Arnold asked.

"Just promise me," Becky said. "Promise I won't be arrested."

"You're helping an office find a missing person," Arnold explained. "I can protect you if it's anything bad. You can say what you need to say."

Becky took a deep breath and exhaled, regaining her composure. "I already know who it is."

Arnold stayed silent, turning to look at Bliss to see if she had any idea what was going on. She was sitting at her desk, mouth agape, completely blown away.

"It's a guy I went to school with," Becky continued, her pace fast, wanting to get everything out before she lost the courage. "We were in a few classes together and he had expressed an interest in learning how to hack. He joined the computer club I was part of and that's how we got to know each other better. We even worked together a little on a few projects, I can't tell you what so don't even ask…but he's still here in Hillwood."

"Where?" Arnold asked. Becky told him the address of his lab.

* * *

Arnold marched down the street, anger pumping through his veins, his face contorted with rage as he walked up a familiar stoop and wrenched the office building doors open. He wound his way through the building, making his way to the bright white hallway he knew too well. As he walked, he drew his office-issued pistol from his belt, cocking it before arriving at the heavy metal door. He crashed his fist onto the cold metal and waited.

In only a few moments, the door cracked open, and Arnold slammed his body into the door, sending the occupant of the room flying backwards off their feet, sliding across the tiled floor. Arnold approached the cowering man on the floor and pointed the gun directly in his face. "You son of a bitch, you ratted her out."

Brainy lay on the floor, hands in front of his body, palms out, in surrender. He winced with pain and fear as Arnold stood over him in a complete rage. "You better start talking."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Brainy cried, closing his eyes and turning his head from the gun as if it would go off at any second. He wasn't wrong.

"Like hell you don't," Arnold reached down and grabbed Brainy by the front of his shirt, yanking the man off the floor to his feet and slamming his body against the lab bench behind them. "I know you set Helga up, I know it was you're fault, now TALK!"

"Okay, okay!" Brainy yelled, trying to regain control of the situation. "I'll tell you everything."

He waited for Arnold to release him, but Arnold just stared at the despicable person in front of him, gun pointed in his face, so he began his explanation.

"I…I loved her," Brainy said, clearly looking for some sympathy. Arnold just tightened his grasp on his shirt, holding the gun closer to his face. "She hurt me! She denied my love! I just wanted to get back at her, I wanted her to suffer the way I had! I wanted her to lose everything the way I had! I didn't want her to die, I swear!"

"What did you do?!" Arnold demanded.

"I discovered her research and I told Angel Co. what she was doing. I gave them her list of companies that were polluting and told them to warn the others. They were supposed to start cleanup efforts before her paper ever got published. That way they could save face and hopefully make her look like a fraud. If they got themselves cleaned up before she published, then her data wouldn't make any sense! She'd be ruined just like me!"

"What do you know about the kidnapping?!" Arnold yelled.

"I…they…" Brainy struggled. "They asked me where she was. I told them. I told them where she was staying in Mexico. I hacked her accounts and I found out where she was staying based on her credit card statements. I told them what hotel she was in. That's all I know!"

"LIAR!" Arnold put the gun directly on Brainy's forehead. "You know more! I know you do!"

"Alright! Alright!" Brainy yelled back, sweat beading down his face now. "I know…I know everything, okay?!"

"Then keep talking!" Arnold could barely see straight, but he wasn't about to let Brainy know that. His head was swimming with grief. This man betrayed her, and he never said anything to anyone. He caused her pain. He was the one behind her suffering.

"The people at the protest were not actual protesters," Brainy continued. "It was a set-up. I know because they…they kept me involved. I don't know why, maybe it was to keep me quiet. If I knew what they were capable of, I wouldn't turn them in or something, I don't know, either way it worked…"

"Will you continue with the fucking story!" Arnold shouted, not caring at all about any excuse Brainy would have for doing this to Helga.

"They sent people from their own companies to the protest," Brainy said in a hurry. "They took Helga right from her hotel room. They died her hair brown in case anyone saw them traveling with her to make it look less suspicious. They planted the girl, the blonde from the hospital. She was an actress and the promised her a lot of money for a flawless performance. She pretended to get hit, and then the officers took statements from the protesters. They told the officer it was Helga, but it wasn't. Then, at the Hospital, they got a doctor they had paid off to pretend that this girl was, in fact, Helga, and convinced her parents she was dead. They put horrible make up on her to make her face look swollen and unrecognizable to her parents when they came to identify the body. The actress walked away with a chunk of change, her parents walked away thinking they had lost a daughter. It's what they wanted."

"Where is she?" Arnold demanded.

"I don't know, they wouldn't tell me," Brainy said, tears swimming in his eyes. "I just asked them not to kill her. They said they wouldn't as long as I kept my mouth shut. If I told anyone, they would have killed her."

"Why are they holding her?" Arnold asked. "Why didn't they just kill her? Why keep a promise to you?"

"I'm not sure," Brainy replied. "Ransom? Pay back? Keeping her quiet without killing her? Maybe they kept her alive to save their own asses? Maybe they kept their promise because they knew I had nothing to lose and no reason to keep quiet! Maybe she knows something about their rival businesses that would help them? I don't know, there could be a lot of reasons!"

"Give me one reason," Arnold hissed through clenched teeth. "Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you right now."

"Because it's illegal?" Brainy ventured a guess. "Because you still want to find Helga and killing me would only hinder that. They'd throw you in jail no questions asked."

Arnold stared at the man below him, shaking with anger. Brainy stared up at him, searching for mercy. "You wouldn't do it, would you? You couldn't kill me, right?"

Arnold held his gun at the man, trying to clear his head and make the right decision. Thinking on his feet, he spun the man around, forcing him to bend over the lab bench and pinned his arms behind his back. He reached into his pocket and grabbed a zip tie that, as a cop, he had ready just in case. He tied the man's hands together before pushing him roughly to the ground, where he fell face first onto the linoleum.

His gun still pointed on the man's face, Arnold stood for a long time. Without taking his eyes off Brainy, Arnold pulled his phone out and dialed someone. "Hey, it's me, I need you to come meet me somewhere…I've got someone who wants to confess to a crime."

* * *

"What the fuck happened here, man!"

Not long after Arnold made his call, the sound of sirens approached in the distance. Within minutes, backup had arrived in the basement lab in the form of Gerald who certainly didn't expect to see Brainy tied up on the floor with Arnold's gun pointed in his face.

"You thought I was nuts, remember?" Arnold growled, his teeth gritted and his hands aching from holding tightly to his gun. It took all his will power to keep himself from pulling the trigger. "Well ask this fucker what happened to Helga."

Gerald approached Arnold and put his hand on the gun, pointing it to the ground, his eyes full of concern for his friend. Arnold disengaged the gun and put the safety on, sighing heavily. The adrenaline flowing through his veins was slowly dissipating, leaving Arnold feeling weak, his hands shaking. He sat in a chair, allowing the full effect of his grief flood his system. He put his head in his hand while Gerald crouched by Brainy, asking for him to repeat his story.

Moments later, Gerald stood. His back was to Arnold as he stared out in front of him, taking in what Brainy had told him. After a couple of minutes, he crouched down and Arnold heard the zip tie holding Brainy's hands together snap.

Arnold stood, shocked. "What the hell?"

He barely had time to get the words out when he heard the metallic clicking of handcuffs being placed on the crumpled man. Gerald hoisted him to his feet, reading him his rights which he had memorized. Gerald marched Brainy past Arnold, out into the hallway and towards the stairs. Arnold followed, watching in awe as Gerald pushed Brainy into the back of his patrol car, slamming the door shut and immediately locking Brainy in before calling the station to inform Wolfgang they had the suspect in custody.

Gerald approached Arnold, still not saying a word, staring at his friend for a long time. Arnold watched as Gerald's eyes searched his own, piecing together everything Arnold had said and done since Helga had been pronounced dead. He relived every moment, every doubt he had in his friend, and Arnold could see the painful truth finally setting in. Helga had been Gerald's partner as well, and while he wasn't nearly as close with her as Arnold was, they were still friends. Tears began welling in his friends eyes.

"Arnold, I," Gerald started, his voice deep with emotion, wavering as he tried to get the words out. "I…I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Arnold said reflexively.

"No, it's not," Gerald replied, shaking his head and casting his gaze towards the concrete. "I didn't believe you… I… I wanted my friend back."

Arnold remained silent as Gerald finally let his grief out. "I was hurt when we lost Helga, believe me. I was in so much pain. I know you think I didn't like her much, but I did. We were a team, and she was my wife's best friend and…and I knew she loved you."

"You knew?" Arnold asked.

"Phoebe told me," Gerald said. "I was sworn to secrecy… maybe that's why I didn't like it when you guys were getting so close, I don't know. I didn't want to see her hurt, but at the same time I didn't want you two to leave me behind. I didn't want our team to break up. Then when she died…it was like I lost you too."

"I'm sorry you felt that way," Arnold replied. They were sitting on the front stoop to the complex now, waiting for more backup to arrive to gather evidence from Brainy's lab. "But I was right there the whole time."

"But a piece of you died with her. I just wanted everything to be normal again." Gerald confessed as he quickly wiped tears from his eyes before letting them fall. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you."

"I mean," Arnold said, leaning back, propping himself up with his elbows on the step behind them. "You kind of had good reason to doubt me. If I were you, I wouldn't have believed me either. Who the hell talks to dead people? Minus that weird kid from the Sixth Sense, but that's a movie."

Gerald laughed, shaking his head. "Do you always have to look on the bright side?"

"Man, I haven't heard that in a long time," Arnold laughed along with his friend. "Probably because I haven't been very cheerful since this all happened."

"Yeah no kidding," Gerald said. "We've all been a little out of it though."

"True," Arnold agreed, nodding and looking up at the sky. "But the sooner we can find Helga, the sooner we can all heal the way we were meant to."

"Do you think Brainy will know where she's kept?" Gerald asked as more cop cars started pulling up. Arnold stood up and made his way to Gerald's squad car.

"I think he does, but we won't know that until after his confession and interrogation," Arnold said, pulling open the passenger door and glaring at the scum in the back seat. "He's lucky there's a Plexiglas window between us."

"He's lucky you called for backup too," Gerald said, sliding into the driver's seat, giving Brainy an equally disgusted glare before starting the car. "Anything we should be on the lookout for? Surveillance tapes? You doing anything insane?"

"I mean it wouldn't hurt to check those things out," Arnold said, scratching his neck and looking out the window. Gerald laughed and shook his head.

"So I have to ask," Gerald said, his tone serious again. "I know Helga left us to work for EARTH, but…"

"But what?" Arnold asked, though he already knew what was coming.

"I know…I know you guys had a pretty big fight before she left too," Gerald said, treading lightly.

"Yes we did." Arnold stated matter-of-factly.

"Want to talk about that?" Gerald asked.

Arnold hesitated, thinking about what it would mean to finally talk about this. "If you can get to my apartment tonight for drinks…I think we could talk about that."


	26. Chapter 26

Arnold sat at the small round kitchen table situated in the middle of his small kitchen, his friends sitting around him. The bright hanging light over the table made the entire thing feel like a police interrogation, only this time he was the one on trial. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that no one was forcing him to talk. He chose this. He needed to talk about it at some point.

Gerald and Sid chatted idly, waiting for Arnold to work up the courage to open his mouth without pressure. They had half empty glasses of amber liquid in front of them, swirling their glasses every now and then, the ice chiming against the glass. Arnold looked down where an identical glass was grasped tightly between folded fingers, the freezing glass chilling his sweating palms. _It shouldn't be this hard to talk about._

He glanced up with his eyes to look at his friends. They weren't looking back. They were losing faith. He could see it in Gerald's eyes; disappointment, but not because Arnold wouldn't confide in him, but because he couldn't. Was it disappointment, or was it a sad pity? Arnold pushed his glass away from him, causing his friends to snap their attention to him.

"I think I've been relying too heavily on this stuff," Arnold said quietly, smiling. They all sat in silence for what felt like eternity before Arnold inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, preparing to spill his guts.

"It started on her last day at the station…"

He remembered it clearly, his mind's eye unclouded as he recalled what had driven Helga away from him.

 _Arnold sat in his office, typing away on his computer, filling out tedious reports, when a soft knock came at his door. Before he could answer, the doorknob turned slowly and the door gently opened to reveal Helga standing in his doorway. He looked for only a moment. He went back to typing._

 _"You're not even going to say goodbye to me, then?" Helga asked, stepping into his office, her arms behind her back and a playful smirk on her face. When she saw Arnold wasn't in the mood to joke, she sighed heavily, rubbing her temples. "Come on, Arnold, you can't be mad at me forever."_

 _"I'm not mad," Arnold said, his eyes fixed on the computer screen. "Who said I was mad?"_

 _"Please," Helga scoffed, sitting on the corner of his desk. She pointed to his monitor screen where Arnold had typed the same sentence three times in a row. "You're really going to pretend you're not mad? I mean, if you want to pretend this isn't bugging you and go on with your fake work until I leave the room, that's fine by me, but it seems counter-productive."_

 _Arnold let out a grumble of frustration, angrily tapping the backspace button on his keyboard, glaring at Helga. She smirked. "That's more like it."_

 _"Why are you here?" Arnold asked._

 _Helga's face fell. "I just wanted to talk to you."_

 _"About what?" Arnold asked, his temper rising. "You're leaving. You're going off to a different job, you're abandoning us. You are giving up on AASP, and you're letting all those kids down who count on you every day. What more is there to talk about?"_

 _"It's more than that Arnold, you have to believe me," Helga said, a desperation in her eyes for him to understand._

 _"That's all I can see from here," Arnold turned back to his computer. Helga sighed and heaved herself off the desk, heading for the door._

 _"Well, if you want to say goodbye, we're getting together at the diner after work for one last meal," She said, her back to Arnold as she opened the door to leave._

 _"We'll see, I'm kind of busy," Arnold said to her back. She slammed the door shut._

 _Arnold stayed at the office later than he wanted to, but he couldn't seem to get anything done today. He messed up left and right, and had to back pedal all day. He finally gave up, shutting off his computer in frustration, snagging his coat from the back of his chair, and walked out into the dark street, heading for home. While he walked, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He answered._

 _"Hey Gerald, what's up?" Arnold said as cheerfully as he could, trying to hide his shitty mood._

 _"Cut the crap man, come to the diner now," Gerald replied angrily._

 _"Why should I?" Arnold said, sounding like a pouty child._

 _"Because she's your friend and your partner, stop being a bitch," Gerald said with finality before hanging up the phone. Just when Arnold thought his day couldn't get much worse._

 _He entered the diner to find that his colleagues practically overflowing from every booth and table, not to mention the counter. Maybe he could blend in and not have to see Helga at all. He snaked around the diner, trying desperately to hide himself in the crowd of blue uniforms. What did he care if she knew he was there or not? Didn't matter to him…_

 _"Hey Arnold." Arnold froze in his tracks, caught in an instant. Helga stood behind him, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in an expression that made clear her indignation. Arnold nodded in her direction, not saying a word. Her tone was dripping with sarcastic rage. "Glad you could make it."_

 _"What are friends for?" Arnold asked before making his way across the room, joining a conversation with people he barely ever spoke to just to get away from Helga. She didn't follow him._

 _Weeks passed without any word from Helga and Arnold faked normalcy, going about his life, doing his job, waking up and doing it all again. Every day was a copy and paste of the day before. Then, one day, it changed._

 _Zoned out, his gaze locked on his monitor, Arnold didn't even see Gerald come into his office. He leapt a mile when Gerald slapped the stack of magazines down on Arnold's desk. "What the fuck is this?!"_

 _"It's Helga's work," Gerald said, frustration in his voice. "She's amazing. Go talk to her."_

 _"Arnold scanned the covers of the many magazines, seeing Helga's name stand out on every single cover. Hot button words like "Climate change" and "Tycoon's downfall" jumped off the page at him. He sighed, realizing she was thriving at her new job and maybe, just maybe, this was a good thing for her…despite what he felt. He heaved himself up out of his chair and started walking to her apartment building._

 _He saw her approaching, walking with her face down, searching her pockets for her house keys. He smiled as she rooted around, frustration etched on her face. He remembered when she lectured him for a good half hour about why she would never carry a cumbersome purse, and yet here she was searching for her keys in her overstuffed pockets just as any woman would search her purse. When she finally found them, she looked up and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Arnold sitting on her stoop. He smiled at her, but she narrowed her eyes, suspicion on her face. "What do you want?"_

 _Arnold reached down next to his feet and held up a little daisy that he had purchased on his way over, holding it up towards her. "Sorry?"_

 _She rolled her eyes, walking towards him. She climbed the steps to the front door. He was sitting on the top step of her front stoop and when she approached, she pushed Arnold over sideways with the side of her foot. "Get out of my way, football head."_

 _Arnold smiled and followed her inside, happy she didn't slam the door in his face. He entered her familiar kitchen and thought about throwing his jacket on the table the way he always did, but today he hesitated. Did she forgive him yet? They stood in her apartment, five feet of space between them, a weird, unfamiliar silence hovering between them. Arnold gently placed the daisy on her table._

 _"I'm sorry I was such a jerk," He said quietly, looking down, his voice deep as he attempted to control his emotions. He had been so angry with her that he didn't realize how much he had missed her until now. "If this is what you want to do, I support you."_

 _"Kind of a little late for that, isn't it?" Helga replied. Arnold could tell she was having a hard time pretending to be angry with him. "I don't understand why you were so upset in the first place… if you wanted to do something else, I would have been happy for you. I would have been behind you one hundred percent. Why couldn't you do the same for me?"_

 _"Because I'm selfish?" Arnold said, shrugging. "Because I wanted to keep you as my partner? Because I'm bad at making new friends and I don't like sharing? Do any of those excuses work?"_

 _"Not really," Helga said, but she smiled._

 _"I saw your articles," Arnold said, changing the subject. He usually didn't mind talking about how he felt with Helga, but today it felt off. She noticed the awkward transition and shifted uncomfortably. "You're doing a really good job."_

 _"Thanks," She said, scratching her upper arm and looking away from Arnold. He didn't know what else to say._

 _"Well," Arnold stepped back towards the door. "I guess… guess I'll call you? See if we can't hang out again? Or perhaps you are too cool for me now, which I'd understand… you save the planet now, after all, I just arrest drunk people…"_

 _"I missed you," Helga blurted out. Arnold stopped. "I wish you would have called me or something…"_

 _"You could have called me too," Arnold said._

 _"Yeah well, you were so mad at me when I quit, I didn't think you wanted anything to do with me anymore," Helga admitted._

 _"I just didn't want you to quit, that's all," Arnold said. Helga nodded, her face suddenly sad. She went over to the kitchen table and picked up the daisy, twirling it in her fingers, concentrating hard on it._

 _"Okay, well," she said so suddenly it startled Arnold. "I appreciate your apology, and I'll give you a call. We'll still hang out, don't worry."_

 _"Okay…" Arnold said, furrowing his brow. "You alright?"_

 _"Yep," she said, pushing past him and opening the door for him to leave._

 _"You don't sound alright," Arnold said, rooted to his spot._

 _"Look, you're just going to have to trust me on this on," Helga said, pointing out the door. She really wanted him to leave. "I had to quit. I had to move forward."_

 _"If you say so," Arnold said, looking at the floor and heading for the door. "It's just…I've missed you too."_

 _He was halfway out the door when he felt Helga grab him by the back of his jacket. She pulled him backwards into her apartment and without warning, as was her style, she kissed him. It wasn't like at the wedding, and it wasn't like at the holiday party, this was different. She kissed him for a long time, for what felt like an eternity. Then, just as quickly as it started, she broke away and pushed him out the door._

 _"I'll see you around, football head," she said before closing the door softly with a click, leaving Arnold standing there, stunned and confused as hell._

"Wait wait wait," Gerald said, holding his hand out, breaking Arnold from his concentration. "You guys kissed a hell of a lot. You didn't think something was up?"

"I don't know," Arnold said, leaning back in his chair, throwing his hand in frustration. "I mean, two of those times we were drunk, I figured it was just…just one of those things that sometimes happens when you're drunk, you know?"

Gerald gave Arnold a skeptical look. "I don't know man, I think you're just bad at picking up on signals."

"Clearly," Arnold laughed. "But come on, a drunken peck isn't anything, really, and let's be honest here, who would have ever thought that Helga would have liked me considering our past?"

"Looking back on it, it makes sense that she loved you for a long time," Sid said, swirling his drink. "She never left you alone when we were kids. Like they say, hindsight is 20/20."

"I guess so," Arnold nodded.

"But I thought you guys fought?" Gerald asked again. "That wasn't such a bad fight you had, I remembered that. It was awkward as hell and childish, but you got over it eventually and things went back to normal."

"That wasn't the fight," Arnold said gravely as he continued.

 _"Hang on!" Helga's voice crackled over the intercom. The door buzzed and Arnold yanked it open, heading up to her apartment. He barely knocked on her door when she yanked it open, her cheeks flushed and a wide smile spreading across her face. "I just got the best assignment!"_

 _"You did?" Arnold asked, laughing as he set down the takeout bags on her table. "Tell me about it."_

 _"Water quality!" Helga exclaimed. "I am going to be doing water quality research. This is going to be big, I can tell."_

 _"Water quality?" Arnold asked, looking skeptical. He sat down on the couch with his food and handed her a carton of Chinese food. She set it on the coffee table, too excited to eat._

 _"Yes! But I get to take part in the research, Arnold. I get to help actual scientists get the word out there that we need to protect our waterways. People who are impoverish suffer more than we know from poor water quality, I feel like I'm going to do some real good in this world!"_

 _"Well, I wish you luck then," Arnold laughed, but something was bothering him. "You were doing good for the world with AASP you know."_

 _"I know," Helga said, coming down off her high and sitting down next to him. "But this… this is different."_

 _"How is it any better than what you were doing before?" Arnold asked while he stabbed at his food._

 _"This is more…globally applicable," Helga explained. "I liked helping out in my own city, but…I needed a bit of a change…we've already gone over this a hundred times, haven't we?"_

 _"You're right," Arnold said, dropping the subject. But he couldn't leave it alone. "I just don't get why you want to do this, that's all. You never really told me that."_

 _"Because, Arnold, there are bigger problems than what's in our little city," She snapped, anger filling her voice._

 _"I know that," Arnold snapped back, getting heated. "But why do you need to solve it? You're never around anymore. We were supposed to keep hanging out and keep being friends like when you were on the force but you're so focused with work it's like it's all you care about."_

 _"Look," Helga said, pointing her fork at him, "I have my reasons for wanting to do this. Don't fight me on this, okay? It's just something I need to do."_

 _"I'm not trying to fight you, I just don't understand and you won't explain it to me," Arnold said with a raised voice._

 _"I just did! I want to help solve the world's problems, not just the problems here in Hillwood!" She pulled her legs up onto the couch, pulling her knees close, putting up a visual wall between her and Arnold. He pushed her legs down. That pissed her off. "I'm sorry, do you have a problem with me right now or something? What's your deal?"_

 _"Nothing," Arnold grumbled. "I just wish you weren't so fucking obsessed with your job."_

 _"You're just pissy because I'm doing what I want, not what you want," Helga bit back._

 _"I think I have a right to be pissed that you abandoned your project for something better, like you're some high and mighty savior of the earth," Arnold spat back, intending to hurt._

 _"Oh my god, you're never going to let that go," Helga laughed cruelly, rolling her eyes. There was silence between them for a few minutes before she struck again, her words like venom. "Your parents would understand what I'm trying to do."_

 _"Are you fucking serious right now?" Arnold yelled. "You think you have any right to talk about my parents right now?"_

 _"They would! They fought to protect the Green-Eyed people from disease, they wanted to help them regardless of the cost! They fought for what they believed in, and I will too!"_

 _"Like you could ever do what they did," Arnold yelled. "They actually got their hands dirty! All you do is write about what other people are doing, you're not saving anyone or anything! You're just a writer!"_

 _"Oh yeah? You're just an orphan whose parents probably died in the jungle 'getting their hands dirty!'" Helga yelled, losing her temper with Arnold. The minute the words left her mouth, her face dropped and she instantly regretted it. She put her hand over her mouth, as if she couldn't believe what had slithered out in her rage. Arnold stared at her for a long time, hurt, angry, and shocked that she would say something like that to him._

 _"At least I'm not a friendless bitch," Arnold said, standing from the couch. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, slamming it on his way out._

Sid and Gerald didn't react at first, but just stared at Arnold, shocked that he could say something like that to Helga, or that she would say something like that to him.

"Looking back, I think she was trying to tell me that she was going to be working on my parent's research," Arnold said, his voice low and thick with emotion as he tried to hold back tears. "I think she was trying to gage my response. After reading the emails Phoebe gave me, the papers from Dr. Bliss and Becky… Why else would she have brought any of that up? She had even said to Phoebe she didn't know how to tell me she was leaving and why. She couldn't tell me she was working on my parent's research because that would mean admitting she loved me. It was her big romantic gesture to me so I could just figure it out on my own, but then she was kidnapped. She got in too deep."

"And, as long as I'm playing therapist here, I think I was so offended by her working on environmental shit instead of working with me because that's exactly what my parents did. Well, obviously, she was doing their work. It was way too reflective of them abandoning me…I was preparing myself mentally for someone else to leave me the same way they did."

"That's pretty heavy, Arnold," Sid said, shaking his head and taking a deep swig of his drink. "Those therapy sessions have really helped you figure yourself out though."

"Yeah, I just wish I could have figured her out," Arnold replied. "Hell, if I just could have been honest with myself about the way I was feeling I could have figured out I was falling for her."

"You can't go backwards," Gerald added quietly. "You can only go forward. You know she loves you now, you know why she started working for earth, you know SI2 is the major polluter she's after and could potentially ruin, you know they're the ones that took her. You can only move forward."

"As soon as we get Brainy's confession, we will be one step closer to finding her," Arnold said in agreement with Gerald. "If he knows where she is, we can get her out of there. She can finish her work, she can take Angel Co. and everything that SI2 owns down, she can save the people on the river Paraguay and start cleaning up their water and do what my parents couldn't. What they died trying to do. She can stop the cancer-causing pollution. She just has to come home."


	27. Chapter 27

Arnold sat behind his desk, knees bouncing out a beat lacking in any rhythm. How could anyone concentrate today? Brainy had been held overnight and today, this moment, right now, the interrogation began. The eerie quiet flooded the office like a fog, slow and silent, filling every corner. Whenever anyone passed Arnold's cube he could feel their sideways glances, waiting for him to do something. Everybody knew who was in holding. Everyone knew what he did, and everyone was about to find out what exactly happened to Helga. All that research, all the lies and conspiracy. It was about to come rushing out of that interrogation room. Everyone would know.

"Why?" Arnold had asked Wolfgang through gritted teeth not ten minutes earlier, keeping his manic energy under control as best he could. "Why can't I go too?"

"You know why," Wolfgang bluntly stated before leaving Arnold at his desk to wait in agony. How long would it be before they got a confession? How long would it be before they knew where to get Helga?

Arnold felt a sharp pain in his hand as a long snap echoed across the room. He looked down at broken shards of pencil scattered across his desk, a stub of yellow wood still clutched in his white-knuckled fist. Yeah, probably best he didn't join the interrogation.

He busied himself with paperwork, trying to keep his focus. It seemed like every time he looked up at the clock, no time had passed at all. The hands were permanently glue in their position, refusing to budge. Every door that creaked open made Arnold snap to attention, wondering if anyone would bring him any news. At all. Anything? After what felt like an eternity, Gerald came around the corner of his cube, hands in his pockets. Arnold leapt from his seat.

"Well?" He asked as his chair slid away from him, rolling back quickly from his sudden movement.

Gerald shrugged and looked at the floor. "He says he doesn't know where they took her, Arnold."

"That's a lie!" Arnold blurted out. "It has to be…"

"Well if it is a lie," Gerald replied with defeat in his voice. "Then he's not talking. We're going to keep him here again overnight. He will have to go to court eventually for aiding in the kidnapping of Helga. You will probably have to testify during that, you know."

"Not until we find her," Arnold stated with finality. "She comes first."

"We'll see," Gerald was clearly losing confidence in the whole thing, and rightly so. Their best lead was now denying them information. Arnold sat down, deflated, realizing he'd have to go back to square one to figure out where she was. Gerald grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to Arnolds desk. "Hey man, don't get so down yet. There's still a little hope, right?"

"Of course there is," Arnold replied, but he could hear the doubt in his own voice. "I mean, I was looking for her when everyone thought she had just died in a car accident, remember? I had hope for her survival way before this."

"That's very true," Gerald said with a smirk. "Turns out we should never have doubted you."

"I'm surprised it took you this long to realize that, we've been friends our entire lives, you'd think that would be obvious now."

Gerald laughed, genuinely laughed, and it made Arnold feel good for a moment. It had been a while since he made his friend laugh. "And hey, think of it this way: you got her case reopened."

Gerald leaned forward and slapped Arnold's shoulder, and Arnold smiled, "Yeah."

He thought about it for a moment and felt a twinge in the back of his mind. "Hey Gerald?"

"Hmm?" Gerald replied.

"Do you know if I'm on her case or not?"

Gerald was quiet for a moment, his smile slipping a little. "Honestly? I don't know."

"For fuck's sake," Arnold sighed. "I found out she wasn't dead, I found her research from E.A.R.T.H., I found out what she was doing and what she was planning, I found out what company she was going after, and I found the guy who blew her in for it, but I can't be part of the team that gets her?"

"Like I said, I don't know," Gerald remained calm as he explained the situation to Arnold. "You're still on probation, and this had just become a high-profile case that we want to keep quiet as long as possible. If Angel co. or SI2 get wind of what evidence we just received, who knows what they'll do to Helga. This is still new, and it's going to be a big deal when it gets out. For now, don't do anything stupid and keep your nose clean. If I can get more information for you, I will, but you have to be patient. Hell, we don't even know what our next move is in finding her, all we know is she was definitely taken. Give it time, Arnold."

"I hate waiting," Arnold huffed, letting himself indulge in his childish frustration. "I've waited long enough. I want results."

Gerald cracked another smile. "It'll happen now, don't worry. I just keep coming back to one important fact here."

"What's that?" Arnold asked.

"You didn't give up on her," Gerald was serious now, looking at his friend with pride in his eyes. "You wouldn't accept what we all believed to be true. If we find her, if she's still out there, it'll be because of you. You saved her Arnold."

"Not yet," Arnold replied darkly. "She's not safe until she's home. I'm just glad I've got people behind me now."

Gerald stood up and held his hand out to Arnold, and he took it. Gerald shook his hand. "Either way I'm proud of you, and I'm proud you're on this team. "

Arnold smiled; despite the massive hurdles that faced them, it felt good to have Gerald back on his side. As Gerald started to leave, he turned around one last time. "You know, all this time I kept thinking about how much you've changed over the years…how you used to be so optimistic and always looking on the bright side of things and how that part of you had gone…but really, deep down, you're always Arnold Shortman, and there are parts of you that, despite outward appearance, will never change."

As he walked away, smiling, Arnold sat back in his chair. He may have become a bit jaded, he may have a little more- okay a lot more- darkness in his life, but Gerald was right. When everyone had given up, he maintained that Helga was alive and could be rescued. It was reminiscent of his old outlook on life from childhood; there is always hope.

His musings were interrupted by the front doors of the station pounding open. Two cops were slowly pushing a struggling man forward, working to keep him on his feet as they ushered him down the hallway towards holding. He looked ragged and was yelling in slurred speech interspersed with manic laughter at the whole situation. A drunk who had run out of luck.

Not five minutes after the man was tossed into a cell to sober up, one of the sweaty cops peered around Arnold's cube, panting. "That guy we just brought in?"

"Yeah?" Arnold skeptically answered.

"Says he knows you," his colleague replied, eyeing Arnold with suspicion.

"So what?" Arnold shot back, getting heated. "Do you think we're drinking buddies or something?"

The cop didn't answer, but for a split second he looked away. Arnold rolled his eyes, "Did he say who he was?"

"No, but I mean he's been in here a handful of times, we all know his name at this point," the cop pulled away from the cubicle and Arnold stood to follow him. "He says he wanted to talk to you. Said he wanted to catch up, like old times."

"I don't even know who this guy is," Arnold could feel the frustration in his stomach. Who was this drunk idiot?

He walked down the hallway, the sounds of laughter and garbled yelling getting louder and louder as he approached holding. As soon as he turned the corner, Arnold's face dropped in disappointment; it was Eddie.

"Officer Shortman," Eddie said, a malicious smile spread on his face as he gave Arnold a haphazard salute. The effort behind the action made him tilt forward on the dirty bench and he caught himself just in time, saving himself from falling onto the floor face first. He laughed. Arnold confirmed that he knew the man, and the officer left Arnold to chat with the drunk.

"What happened, Eddie?" Arnold asked, exasperation in his voice, arms folded like a parent scolding a child.

Eddie looked around, hands held out to his side, smirking. "You're joking right? Take a look around."

"When are you ever going to learn?" Arnold asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Who are you to fucking judge?" Eddie slurred. "The way I hear it, you've been in my situation a time or two yourself, so you have no business acting all high and mighty over there."

"Is that why you wanted me to come over here? Is this why you wanted to talk?" Arnold could feel his frustration bubbling up and wanted to get on with his work, not waste his time talking to Eddie.

"Honestly, it's just dead boring in here, I wanted a little entertainment," Eddie laughed. Arnold turned to walk away, having just about enough of this, when Eddie called out to him again. "What? Are you going to go tell on me to my little sister? Going to tell Maria her disappointment of a brother is in jail again? Come pick him up again?"

"No, I've got more important things to do," Arnold replied, not even turning to face Eddie.

"She misses you, you know," Eddie's tone had become suddenly serious and Arnold stopped, turning to face him. The smile was gone from his face. "You go out, have a good time, then never call her again? What the fuck is that about?"

"I didn't want to lead her on," Arnold felt ashamed of himself; he had almost forgotten about that night when she kissed him. "I got the feeling she was a little more into me than I was to her…"

"Nice," Eddie scoffed. "As if my family hasn't been through enough."

"Well you're certainly no help," Arnold pushed the conversation away from him and back onto Eddie, wanting to avoid Maria at all costs.

"You don't know my life," Eddie turned away from Arnold, his eyes glossy with memories.

"I know you've had a rough time and I understand, believe me," Arnold tried to think of how he could relate to Eddie, to make him understand he's not alone. "My parents both died when I was a kid, you know…I know your mother recently died…I know you didn't have the best relationship with your father…but that's no reason to go to the bottle, Eddie."

Eddie's face broke into the manic smile again. "Oh, I see Maria has been spilling our family secrets to you, hasn't she? Yes, life has been hard recently, boo-hoo."

Eddie laughed and wiped fake tears away from his cheeks. Arnold shook his head, muttering under his breath. "Why am I even bothering?"

"You should talk to Maria, find out why I really hate our dad," Eddie yelled as Arnold walked away. "It would shock you, really, just absolutely blow you away! I bet she told you what a hero he was, didn't she? Talked about how amazing and perfect he was, right?"

Arnold didn't answer, but he slowed down. That caught Eddie's attention. "Did she tell you where he worked?"

Arnold turned around, confused. "No, she didn't…"

"Go check my file," Eddie said, laughing. "Then tell me what you think."


End file.
